If I Should Love Again
by MaddCricket
Summary: Finding Hermione is being abused, Severus is the only ally Harry can find to help that hasn't gone crazy. SSHG
1. Chapter 1

A/N: First off, trigger warning for the ones who need it! Secondly: It's been years since I've written HP fanfic! This story is for the Camp NaNoWriMo 2015 (April edition), I have started early, obviously, but I just got so excited to share it with you all, and it will hopefully give me the motivation I need to keep it all going when April hits. OK, time to stop my babbling. Please let me know if you enjoy my story!

Chapter Word Count (CWC): 1,515.

Harry could hear the screaming from the end of the block. It grew louder the closer he got, and confirmed his worse assumptions as he reached the door. They were fighting. Though he couldn't tell what was being said, the walls thick enough to muffle the words that mostly seemed to be coming from Ron, it would take an idiot to not recognize it was more than just your typical married couple squabble. Harry and Ginny had raised their voices to each other many of times, but this level of fighting had never even seemed to occur to either of them. Harry rapt his knuckles against the door, the screaming stopped if only for a second before starting up again. Growing concerned, Harry raised his hand to knock again, but was frozen mid-motion as a sharp 'SMACK' sounded. The unmistakable sound reminiscent of a palm connecting with flesh. Unable to move much from shock, Harry pressed a timid ear to the door – more like his body had fell forward so he was forced into the position. The screaming had stopped. He could hear nothing but a slight movement from the other side of the door, and fell forward as it opened. Harry wobbled from the sudden void of space, took a moment to balance himself, then mimed a smile as if he hadn't heard a thing, and hadn't been leaning against the door trying to hear more. Hermione stood there in front of him.

Look at her eyes. Harry had been told this by Hermione once. Look at her eyes. They've been fighting again.

Hermione's brown eyes, usually full of intense excitement were glossed over with a layer of tears. An invisible wall seemed to keep them from falling over to run down her cheeks. Harry couldn't help but notice one of those cheeks had a perfect imprint of a hand, a cherry red blush that would fade in time, but would be forever scarred in Harry's memory. Before he could ask what was going on, Ron appeared behind her. Hermione failed at holding in a flinch as he wrapped an arm around her side, pulled her gently out of the doorway and beckoned Harry in as if nothing had happened.

"Shall we go?" Ron asked, grabbing a bag that had been placed, one of many, in front of the stairs. "We've got the potato salad and deserts. Mum said she'd be making her corned beef sandwiches."

Harry feigned excitement, but shot a wary eye to Hermione after Ron had stepped past them to close the door. With his back to them, he furrowed his brow at Hermione, who shook her head; a small and meek movement that would have gone unnoticed if Harry hadn't been watching her so carefully.

"Where's Ginny?" Ron asked. Harry jumped, forgetting where he was, and broke away from Hermione's gaze. He grabbed the other bags, throwing a few of them over his shoulder without looking back to Ron. It was hard enough to look at Hermione, let alone look at the guy who put that mark on her face.

"She decided to meet us there. Something about needing to assist in a surprise I'm not supposed to know about."

"Who snitched?" Ron asked, his voice dropping to convicting tones and fearing he'd yell at Hermione regardless of his presence or not, answered quickly.

"No one. I accidentally opened an owl Ginny received a few weeks ago and forced it out of her." It wasn't a bad thing of opening that letter, but the wait for today had been excruciatingly long. His birthday wasn't the surprise, everything had been planned to happen on his birthday, but the guest list and RSVP's they'd received is what made him excited. People he hadn't seen in years were to be showing up. Ginny had made him promise not to tell anyone he knew, and to act extra surprised when they'd pop out at him in celebratory fashion and Harry was bound and determined to make it the best performance of his life, but the feeling had diminished as soon as he saw Hermione. She hadn't said a word since opening the door, instead, she had stood off to the side, one arm hugging herself and was staring at a spot on the floor. Harry had opened his mouth to ask her a question, to get her to talk, when Ron spoke up again.

"Well let's get a move on then. I think I've stalled you long enough for them to hide." Grinning, Ron grabbed a hold of Hermione's arm and they both disappeared with a soft 'POP.' Harry stood alone for a moment. He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what in the hell had gone on, before adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder, taking the other bags with both hands, and disapperating.

The Burrow looked just as it did the first time Harry laid eyes on it. Standing there, looming over him, looking ragged and yet managing to hold itself together. It was a warm welcome, but knowing that Hermione was somewhere inside, obviously unable to speak, did nothing to light the excitement in him. He walked to the front door, pushed it open with his foot as far as he could before using the bags he was holding as a bumper to get inside. He had barely slipped the bag off his shoulder before a chorus of voices filled the air around him.

"Happy Birthday!" They screamed, bursting into a song afterward. Harry peeled his lips back into a smile that he hoped was believable. It wasn't the act he had planned and practiced every day for the past couple of weeks, but it seemed to be enough as he was rushed with open arms from all directions. Dedalus Diggles' violet top hat blocking the view of the crowd as he rushed in for a handshake. Stirgus Podmore, Bill and Charlie Weasley, and even Arabella Figg each gave their greeting before he had a chance to breathe. A genuine smile crossed his face as McGonagall approached him and smiled. It had been over a year since his last visit to Hogwarts, but she didn't look a day older than when he first saw her on his first day there.

"Happy birthday, Harry." She pulled him into a hug. Over her shoulder, a very uncomfortable looking Hagrid had been stooping just to fit into the room, snuggly in a corner probably to keep from trampling all those in attendance. In his hands, a cake that was obviously handmade and squished inside a white box. Surrounding him, faces of his friends that he had seen off and on in the past few months greeted him excitedly: Neville and Hannah, Luna, Seamus and Dean. Mixed in were those from the Auror's office that he had seen five days a week for the past ten years. He couldn't believe there was enough room for all these people, on top of the large Weasley family, yet somehow they all fit comfortably, with a little elbow room to spare.

Ginny appeared at his side, grabbed his arm and kissed his cheek. She whispered her sweet nothings into his ear. He had grabbed onto her arm, politely dismissing them from the crowd and led them outside. When he turned to face her, she appeared shocked, a little worried.

"You don't approve of this, do you?" Ginny started. "I knew this was going too far."

"No, no." Harry quickly defended. "It's wonderful. Quite brilliant, thank you." He glanced back at the door, then pulled them away further as if the distance they already had was not good enough. "I wanted to ask you about Hermione." Harry started. "Her and Ron were fighting when I arrived. Not a good fight either. I think he hit her."

"Couples fight, Harry." Ginny answered. "They'll get over it."

"You didn't hear me, did you? He hit her. I'm sure the mark is still on her cheek."

"I was hiding right beside her waiting for you. I saw nothing of the sort. Maybe it was just a sleep imprint."

"It must have been a painful sleep." Harry mumbled. Ginny rolled her eyes and placed a hand against his face, her thumb rubbed a spot below his eye.

"I heard someone get smacked." Harry said. "She answered the door almost in tears."

"Fighting makes girls cry, Harry. Surely you know that."

"Ginny." Harry grabbed her hand, pulling it gently down from his face. "I'm being serious."

"I am too." She stated softly, but Harry wasn't so sure. She stood there, admiring him, before sighing and pulling the hand he had grabbed toward the door. "Don't think too much about it, Harry. My brother is absolutely smitten with Hermione. We both know that, and we both know that he'd never hurt her."

Harry followed, brooding. For the time being, he would join the party, make the most of it, but he'd be keeping a wary eye toward Hermione and try to find time to pull her aside.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Lets try this again shall we? I have no idea what happened to the other chapter but hopefully this fixes it! I want to thank all the followers and reviewed and favoriters! Seeing all those made my day!

CWC: 2,062

The party had ended, unfortunately, without a chance to speak with Hermione. Ron had kept her so close to him they could carry a sickle between their shoulders. She barely made eye contact with Harry, and when they did, she acted as if it burned her and would look away quickly. It became increasingly difficult to enjoy himself, and by the time everyone was ready to go home, saying goodbye to everyone had proven to be some kind of hard and complicated concept. It was almost as if everyone had a sudden emergency to get to, rushing the goodbyes and not taking the time to give a proper salutation to each other. Dizzy. Harry was left in a whirlwind of mixed emotions, feeling lost and alone. Even Ginny had left to go home without waiting for him. It was all for the better as Harry had wished to speak with Mrs. Weasley, and as such, remained behind after everyone had left.

"Did you get enough to eat, dear." She said as she rushed over to him, rubbing his back and pushed him toward the kitchen.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you." Harry said, allowing himself to be pushed into a kitchen chair. Mrs. Weasley immediately went to a counter that was filled with dishes still full of food left over from the party and made him a plate.

"Molly, can I ask you a question?" Harry knew he had to go about it gently. It was one thing to talk about an issue like this among friends, but speaking with family about it, Harry felt it needed a kind of delicacy.

"Mmm?" Mrs. Weasley had worked her way over to the sink and began stacking dishes. She leaned back, showing interest in what Harry had to say, but kept her front to the sink, shoving as many dishes as she could inside it.

"Did you-I mean have you-" Harry cleared his throat. He hadn't thought about this approach and was lost at how to start it. Mrs. Weasley seemed to not notice, fishing her wand from her pocket and waved it, setting the water and scrubber to work on their own.

"That was a great party, wasn't it? Good to see old friends again. We really shouldn't wait so long in between gatherings like that." She put her hands on her hips, looked at Harry, still grinning. "You were saying?"

"The party was a great idea. Thank you again for arranging it. I'm surprised we all fit in here to be honest. Such close quarters, I'm surprised someone didn't get an elbow to an eye." Taking this much of a lead, Harry pressed on before Mrs. Weasley could say anything. "Speaking of, did you notice anything off between Ron and Hermione?"

"They're a handsome couple, aren't they?" Mrs. Weasley seemed to drift off into her own world. "I remember when Arthur and I were that young and so much in love."

Harry winced at that word. Love. Love knew no boundaries, sure, but Love wasn't about crossing them.

"They love each other very much, I'm sure, but I'm worried maybe it's gone too far?"

"What's gone too far?" Mrs. Weasley asked, bringing herself back to the moment, grabbing a chair next to Harry and sat down in it. Harry fidigeted as he thought up the next words.

"Ron seemed a little…oh I don't know…overprotective tonight, didn't he? I mean, Hermione barely said two words all night."

"Ron picked a one in a million woman. I just wish they'd start giving me some grandchildren. I've almost lost hope with the others."

"Children would be a blessing." Harry agreed. "I'm just not sure they're entirely…ready for children yet."

"Oh hush. I'm quite sure they are. It would be a shame to keep all that love to themselves."

Harry slouched as he realized the conversation wasn't taking the direction he wanted it to. Straightening up, he turned to Mrs. Weasley and grabbed her arm. He looked at her straight and made sure she had given her undivided attention before pressing the matter at hand.

"There's no easy way to say this, Molly, but this chit-chat isn't getting us much of anywhere. I came across a situation today before coming over here that needs to be addressed. I'm just worried about them, about Hermione. When I showed up to their house, they were fighting and I swear Ron had hit her. He wouldn't let her speak and I couldn't get her by herself to ask anything about it. All I'm asking for is a little help."

"Help with what, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked as if she hadn't heard what Harry was saying. Harry stared a moment longer before standing.

"Forget it." He said. "Thank you for the party, Mrs. Weasley, but I must be getting home." He forced a grateful smile and disapperated. Just as he left the burrow behind, he heard her asking if he was hungry.

Speaking to anyone had been unhelpful. Everyone had been acting like there was nothing wrong, Ginny wouldn't listen, and no one at work would make or keep time with him when it was brought up. Even Arthur, when he ran into him at the Ministry, suddenly had places to be and things to do when Harry so much as thought about it. He felt he had no choice, but to face this head on, to show up on Ron's door and demand an explanation of it all. Leaving the house that morning, he had told Ginny he was off to work. Having told her where he was really going would have started a round and he was in no mood to row with her. He did stop by his work to drop off his robes to make it look like he had been there, before exiting the Ministry, apparating to the spot just down the block from the home.

It had been quiet as he arrived, signaling worry into Harry. Maybe everyone was right and Harry was just overthinking the situation. Maybe Ron and Hermione were still in bed, sleeping after a night of makeup sex, not wishing to be bothered. It would have been a perfect excuse to his unanswered knocks. He gave it a couple of minutes, in case they needed to make themselves presentable before he knocked again. He waited. Knocked. Waited. His stomach clenched, letting his worry turn from that into hope, to that in which he felt he was too late. The worst images flew into mind. Would he find the mangled remains of Hermione on the floor, too late to stop an abusive situation from going to the extreme? Harry gripped his wand at his side, wondering if maybe Ron was standing on the other side of the door, a hand pressed against Hermione's mouth, whispering to her to not make a sound and 'they'll' go away. Harry aimed his wand at the lock and froze. What if it was only his imagination, and they were sleeping and just didn't hear the knock?

"Alohamora." The whisper was barely audible, quieter than the click of the lock turning even, making just that simple movement sound as if it would crumble the Coliseum all the way over in Rome. Harry turned the handle slowly and pushed the door open, praying that his last assumption would be right. Sticking his head between the door and the frame, everything looked to be in order. There was no bloody sight in front of him, nor any sign of struggle. Everything was neat and orderly. He fit his shoulder in, then a foot. Before long, he had his whole body inside and the fear of the worst lifted, leaving him only concerned. He made his way up the stairs before him to the second level of the house. Two bedrooms were at the top of the stairs on either side, before it took a sharp turn to the right, leading to a bathroom and the last bedroom; their room.

The door was open. The bed was a mess, but the house was empty. A normal person wouldn't have thought twice about it and just taken it as they had gone out for an early morning breakfast, or walk. It wasn't as if Ron and Hermione weren't known for doing such things, but what tipped Harry off to this being a genuine problem was the bed. Hermione would never leave the house without the sheets being folded and crisply made. She wouldn't have heard of it, even if Ron had threatened to beat her. The least of that duty that Harry had ever seen was the sheets being pulled up loosely to give the image of a made bed. This was unacceptable and it frightened Harry. He apparated again, this time to the Burrow. He busted in the front door craning his neck in every direction, giving Mrs. Weasley a fright and caused her to let out a small scream. She laughed immediately.

"Oh! Harry! I didn't expect you. Are you hungry, dear?"

"No, actually, I'm wondering if Ron and Hermione have been by?"

"No, they haven't." Mrs. Weasley said before smiling warmly. "They're such a handsome couple, aren't they?" She asked. "I just wish they'd hurry up and give me some—"

"-Grandchildren." Harry finished for her. "Right."

Harry popped off, this time arriving outside the gates of Hogwarts. It was the same distance as always to the grand entryway as before, but the walk seemed to take ages. Navigating the hallways quickly, he came to the large gargoyle statue.

"Fireball." Harry said to it and watched it turn, granting him access to the Headmistress's office. McGonagall had kept to the Muggle sweets password only to keep Dumbledore's spirit alive. He doubted it would ever change. She had been sitting behind her desk at the far end of the room and seemed as though she expected him as she neither jumped or questioned his arrival.

"Potter, please have a seat." She said, not looking up from her parchment, but waved a hand to an open chair. Harry sat and folded his hands anxiously in his lap. Waiting a few minutes, the professor hadn't lifted her eyes.

"Professor?" He asked. She raised a hand and waved it at him. He sat for a few more minutes, the eagerness to find Ron and Hermione grew within him and before long, couldn't take it. Standing, he approached her desk and stood in front of her.

"Professor, I'm just wondering if you've seen Ron today?"

"Mr. Potter." Her voice was sharp. The look that followed almost cut him. "I am terribly busy if you didn't notice and have absolutely no care as to Mr. Weasley's whereabouts. If you'd wait just a moment until I come to a sufficient spot to stop I will be happy to discuss with you further on the matter." Her nose was down to her parchment without further ado. Harry waited, checking his watch every couple of minutes until a half hour had passed. Seeing as he wouldn't get anywhere quickly with her, he dismissed himself and found his way out to the front gate. Resting his forehead against its metal bars that cooled his skin, he ran over anyone else who Ron and Hermione would have visited. Even before this there had only been a select few people they'd bother with this early in the morning. Ron would usually be at work, but as they shared a desk Harry knew he hadn't been in. Hermione, well if she wasn't at work the only other place he could think of was –

-Tugging on the library doors, he found them locked and secure. The sign next to the doors gave the opening time as an hour from then. He peered inside, cupping his hands against the glass and looking in, hopeful that Hermione had managed to sneak in somehow, but found no sign of life inside the building. Growling as he pulled himself away, a thought crossed his mind. He considered it for a moment, knowing very well that it was a long shot. He exhausted every other thought possible, coming to the same conclusion that everyone had gone mad before making himself think that contacting someone outside their group was the best thing he could do. Hesitantly, he hid himself among the bushes and apparated one more time.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all again for all the wonderful reviews, followers and favorites! Every one brings a smile to my face. Hopefully this chapter will post up without confusing code (I have no idea how it happened or how I fixed it to be honest so bear with me should it happen again lol). Loves!

CWC: 1,068

Harry had only ever been to Snape's house once; the Order had one last meeting after the battle, and it had been held there, in Spinners End. The neighborhood wasn't that great, and looking at the outside of Snape's residence wasn't any better. It could be described as a skinny house, as lean as the man himself, and just as dark. The brick hadn't been cleaned in years, and even the windows appeared yellowed and neglected. An involuntary shiver went through Harry's spine and found it impossible to move his feet. Though Harry had found Snape's intentions through the battle and the time leading up to it were pure and helpful and even noble, it did no good to further their relationship. They had fought on the same side, survived and celebrated their victory together, but their feelings toward repairing any damage done between them remained mutually non-existent. Harry would agree that Snape was a brave and wonderful man, but to willingly go to him was against his morale. This was a desperate time, and desperate measures were called for.

He was forced to take a step closer to the house when a couple of old ladies had pushed passed him, biting at him to get out of the way and nearly knocking him over with their canes.

Stepping up to the door, Harry raised a hand to knock, but brought it down immediately. It wasn't too late to turn around, go home, and wait to see if Ron and Hermione returned (knowing very well they hadn't) and maybe save the desperate measure calling for a later time when it would be considered too late. Snape didn't need to be brought into this, did he? Was it really that necessary? Talking himself out of it, Harry turned. The door opened anyway. Harry felt the eyes on his back before the voice was heard.

"Can I help you?" Those four words were just enough to send a bought of dread through him, knotting up his stomach and feared detention immediately. Turning around slowly, Harry found himself unable to form words.

"Obviously you had a reason for coming to admire my door. May I suggest getting on with it, then?" The shadow of the sallow man loomed before him in the doorway.

Forcing a lungful of air into his lungs, Harry asked the only thing he could.

"How did you know I was here?"

Snape smirked. His stony eyes rolled a bit too obviously in his head.

"Surely you don't think I wouldn't know when someone was standing at my door, Mr. Potter."

Harry hung his head, ashamed for asking, then felt ashamed for feeling ashamed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape's feet move, slightly at first, then stepping aside.

"Maybe this fresh air has ruptured your ability to speak. As much as I'm going to regret it, won't you please come in so we may be able to end our little rendezvous quickly?"

Harry found himself still frozen in the spot he stood. Even if he really wanted to go inside the bat's cave, he found his feet weighed a ton and near impossible to lift them. He was helped along when Snape let out a displeased grunt, reached forward and grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt. He was tossed over the threshold and into the small foyer before he had a chance to think twice. Snape shut the door, spun around sharply and sneered at Harry, his upper lip curling.

"I suppose I am to offer you tea? Biscuits?"

Harry shook his head, forcing himself to stand straighter and look Snape in the eye.

"I only came to ask for your help."

Harry managed to say. "Your refreshments are not necessary."

"I've known you for seventeen years, Mr. Potter, and not once have you come to me on your own accord to acquire my assistance in anything." Snape looked Harry over. "Why are you starting now?"

"Well, you see, sir-" Harry thought it best to throw the 'sir' in there to obtain a level of respect, not because he wanted to, "-Something strange has been going on with Ron and Hermione. No one else is of much help, in fact it seems something strange has happened to everyone lately -"

"-Indeed." Snape cut in, wrinkling his nose at Harry. "And what, pray tell, do you think I can do to remedy this situation?"

"You're my last resort." Harry said, defeated. He let his body go limp; losing the rigidness he had, unable to hold that posture anymore. "I really have tried everywhere else and had no choice but to seek your assistance."

Snape considered Harry for a moment, then brushed past him, entering the living room. Harry followed, unsure if that was the right thing to do. Seeing as Snape hadn't protested his further entry into the room, he continued speaking.

"I had come upon Ron and Hermione fighting, and it is my belief that he hit her."

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe she deserved it?" Snape said this with amusement. Harry glared at him, pressing back the urge to snap at him as it would have ruined his chances of obtaining his help.

"It's like he changed overnight. He and everyone else. Mrs. Weasley refuses to hear anything about it, always going on about how she wants grandchildren and asking if I'm hungry. Ginny won't even listen. Nearly breaks down into tears every time I bring it up. No one at work sees it. Even Professor McGonagall seems to be different."

This bit of news seemed to pique interest with Snape as he lifted his chin.

"Explain." He said.

"I just went to see her. She snipped at me for being busy and said I was impatient, then ignored me for the rest of the time I was there."

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe she was, in fact, busy?" Snape asked. "She has a school to run. Her time isn't as free as it once was and you'd do good to learn that some people actually do have work to do and cannot always make time for you."

"But sir, this wasn't-"

"-Wasn't what? What you expected? What you wanted? I'm not sure if you were ever aware of it, Mr. Potter, but your demand for attention and the need for getting into other people's business is rather a bad habit to have picked up." Snape clicked his tongue, his arms crossed in front of his chest and Harry suddenly felt two inches tall. He stood his ground, however.

"If you don't believe me, go see for yourself. I can wait here." Harry said, sitting in the nearest chair much to the disdain of Snape and crossed his own arms in front of his chest. "Something is not right."

Snape flared his nostrils.

"I am sorry, Mr. Potter, but seeing as I have no room in this matter, I shall be declining your request for assistance and ask you to remove yourself from my premises immediately."

Harry stood and gave a stout nod.

"Very well." Harry stepped over to the door and opened it, a perfect reasoning falling into his head and turned back to Snape, jumping a little when he realized he had been standing right behind him. "That's the reason I was standing outside your door, you know. I was thinking that Ms. Trelawney would give me better results, that magic ball of hers would help me more than you ever could."

At this, Snape lurched forward, closing the few inches between them, and pulled Harry from the door, slamming it shut behind them. Snape stood there, breathing heavily and judging Harry without trying to hide it.

"Well played, Mr. Potter." Snape's voice a dull whisper, bared his teeth, his face inches away from Harry's. It looked to Harry as if Snape was deciding to devour him whole, or to hex him. He dared not move the whole time Snape had his shirt gripped within his fist, and only breathed again when the grip loosened.

"May I ask what it is you require of me before I even think about offering my help?"

"I, I don't know." Harry sighed. "Look, professor, all I know is something isn't right. A spell or a curse is the only logical explanation I can think of. All I know is Ron would never hurt Hermione, yet he has. They disappeared this morning out of nowhere and by the looks of it, Hermione was not expecting it. Like I said, everyone else I have gone to seems to have their head in different places and pays no attention to it. Having someone else outside of our usual group seemed the best option to getting somewhere with this, and you're the only one I could even think about trusting in giving some thought to this."

"Trust." Snape snorted. "That's a subject you need to learn to do more often." He was quiet for a moment. "You just want my help in locating Ron and Hermione and figuring out how to break a spell?" Snape asked, more as a statement to himself to get facts straight. He let a nodding Harry go and returned to the sitting room where he properly offered Harry a chair before taking one of his own. "What makes you think I'd be as honest as you like?" Snape asked. "Just so we're clear, I'm not exactly thrilled to have you in my home. This is quite an invasion of my privacy."

"I will understand if you don't want to help. You can back out at any time. I'm just asking for assistance, something that isn't going to hurt you. Even if you can't help figure out what kind of magic is turning everyone crazy, just help in finding Ron and Hermione is all I'm asking." Harry swallowed. "I don't even have to be here, you can just floo over any time you'd like if you find anything."

"I cannot promise you anything, Potter, just be aware of that."

With those words, Harry knew he had his help, if even in the slightest bit.


	4. Chapter 4

CWC: 1,732

"I'm going to need your cooperation if you expect me to help you with this." Snape stood leering at Harry from the center of Harry's living room. It had been a couple of days since Harry had asked, and beyond searching every nook and cranny within a fifty mile radius, Harry came to no other choice, but to sit on his couch that faced a fire place and pour his blank thoughts into the flames. Snape had arrived unannounced, stepping out of that same fire place, saw Harry's vacant expression, and let out a sigh. Harry leaned forward on his knees and pressed his fingertips together and looked hopefully at Snape.

"Have you had any luck?"

Snape's face fell and he shook his head. Turning, he walked to the mantle and studied the pictures that had been placed upon it. A large professional picture of Ginny had drawn his eyes first. She stood, holding her broom in her right hand, a Quaffle in her left and wore the dark green robes of the Holyhead Harpies. A slight breeze was making her hair and her robes billow out, otherwise she was emotionless. Snape did have to say that she grew into her looks, no longer that funny-freckled-faced Weasley that used to sit quietly behind her cauldron. The next picture had the both Harry and Ginny standing in front of the house they were currently standing in. They were happily hugging, Ginny almost knocking Harry over from her excitement. Harry reached out and removed a 'for sale' sign that stood in front of them. Snape's look of disgust at such a saccharine picture only deepened as he looked at the next; Ginny and Harry cutting a three tiered wedding cake. He had received an invitation, which he refused. Sending nothing more than a peweter candy dish as his celebratory gift, he had no interest to see the son of the woman he had longed over for so long, join hands in matrimony. It wasn't to say he wasn't happy for the boy, there was a small smile on his face when his owl arrived holding the shimmering invitation, but it was short lived.

Harry, Hermione and Ron were in the next photo. They were sitting on the fountain's edge inside of the Ministry. Nothing much besides a good group photo of them. They had each obtained a job they wished to have, which was bittersweet for Snape as he had struggled for so long to obtain the Dark Arts profession at Hogwarts. Even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley - of which contained the next picture - had fallen into their profession without a second thought. Here, they were smiling, waving as the large stone rocks of Stonehenge stood behind them. His face relaxed upon the next frame. Almost as if the beloved Headmaster had ordered him to do so, even though he was temporarily out of his picture, the small card easily identifiable as those that came in the Chocolate Frog packs with a small and scrolled 'Albus Dumbledore' under the empty space. Harry stepped beside him, taking the frame from the mantle and looked deeply at it.

"My first card. I got it on the train to Hogwarts." Harry glanced to Snape and saw he wasn't listening, his face drooped in sadness. It was the first time he had seen his old professor even look something other than angry. He was watching the picture of Lily and James that Harry had placed on the end. They were dancing, and hugging. Harry had spent many hours with that same look, staring at the picture and wishing they could step out of it. The sadness soon turned painful and Harry lifted a hand up to Snape's arm, touching it lightly. Snape flinched away, drawing his arm out of his grasp and a flash of familiarity returned to the professor as he glared at Harry, though his eyes still remained as lost as he looked when watching the picture. Harry didn't say a word, letting the professor keep his dignity, but returned the the couch, waiving his arm to offer Snape a seat.

"I've already been by their house today." Harry started, bringing the matter back to Ron and Hermionee, "and was hoping we could return. Maybe you'll see something I'm not."

"Fine." Snape nodded now, looking anywhere but Harry. He felt slightly discomfited to have shown his weak link in front of Harry, knowing very well that the boy had seen it, and suddenly felt like the whole room was hissing at him, teasing him for showing a guard down.

"Harry?" A small voice came from behind Snape. He turned his head halfway and recognized Ginny. At least he thought he did. She was dressed in an overly large t-shirt and sweat pants - both of which were stained with a dark substance, possibly chocolate. Her hair was a disheveled mess that obviously hand't been brushed, or washed in a couple of days. Her face, though always pale, now looked sullen, a sparse moment of age and stress had shown. Her eyes were swollen and red.

"Yes, dear?" Harry walked over to her. She stood there, well aware of Snape as she had been staring straight at him, but showed no sign of acknowledgement. Instead, her eyes seem to grow even redder, and before Harry could turn her away, Snape swore he saw tears beginning to form.

"When are they coming?" She asked. Harry led her away from the doorway. Snape turned to the fireplace again, though he could still hear them speaking.

"Should be any minute. Are you sure you're feeling up to it?"

"I'll be fine."

As if it was called upon, There was a knock on the door. Ginny sniffed, attempting to pull herself together. Snape looked over to see Harry in the doorway for a moment, heading toward the front door. More voices permieated the air.

"Thank you again. Short notice, I know. I hope you didn't have any plans you had to cancel."

"It's not a problem."

Two children around the age of five ran into the room, saw Snape seated on a sofa, and stared like a deer caught in headlights. Their eyes opened wide and their milk-stained mouths hung agape at the ashen man. Snape's left eyebrow began to rise and curve at the little progenies and before he could take on his trademark guise, Harry entered the room with another man. This man was large, looking giant next to Harry, with pudgy cheeks and a blank gaze that soon turned fearful as he sighted Snape, his hands snaking their way behind his large mid-section.

"Dudley, this is Severus Snape. Snape, this is my cousin, Dudley."

Dudley had heard of Snape. Harry had told him stories of how one of his professors at Hogwarts had been quite snide and resentful toward all the kids. At first, when Dudley was practicing the act of being nice, he had been quite taken with the professor; knowing Harry was not getting an easy time at that school did nothing more than make him happy, but after his better senses kicked in and the more he heard, the more he became cautious of this 'Snape.'

Snape's face darkened upon the introduction. His cousin . He knew absolutely nothing about him, but it was enough. The thought of Dudley's mother boiled his blood. Though his encounters with the Muggle were few and inbetween, he was assured that she was not a good person. Always picking on Lily, and the few meetings they had treating him no better than James and the rest of his gang...they would all be better off hexed. Slowly he rose from the couch, his arms crossing over his chest and stared coldly down his large and hooked nose at this Dudley.

"Petunia's boy." He fizzed lowly. Dudley paled.

"Y-you know my mum?" Dudley asked, shrinking a bit in Snape's shadow as he stepped closer. Harry stood to the side, taking amusement in the scene before him before he would separate them. He and Dudley weren't exactly friends; a lot of healing still had to happen between them before Harry would even consider them as such, but some forgiveness had happened in the past ten years between them. Now they were on good terms with each other, just enough to be able to carry on a conversation and content enough with one another that Dudley had asked questions about the wizarding world, and didn't flinch when Harry would perform simple tasks with magic around him. Dudley had not been around another wizard besides Ron, Ginny and Hermione, that this unexpected meeting with an actual Professor of Magic was something Harry couldn't help but simply watch, amused.

"I know her, and I do not think highly of her." Snape purred.

"She's not the nicest to your kind." Dudley gulped, his voice shook as he attempted to show he was embarrassed about it. Petunia was definetly not a friend to anyone in the wizarding world. Dudley had looked to be following in the same steps up until that year Harry left, the year the war happened when the Dursley's moved out and Dudley spoke civilly with Harry. When Dudley had moved out on his own, found a girlfriend and began having kids, Dudley had managed to come to his own conclusions about Harry and his kind. It caused some strain between Dudley and Petunia and Vernon, but for the most part, it seemed to be for the better. Harry didn't believe it until his wedding day had arrived. Inviting Dudley to be polite, he had been surprised to see him there in the seats, then was even more surprised when he had apologized to him in a toast, in front of everyone at the reception. It had meant a lot to Harry, and had expedited their rivalry into being cousins. Family.

"Indeed. And as such, 'our kind' as you so put it, prefer to not have a friendly attitude toward your kind." Snape advanced more and Dudley dodged behind Harry, who couldn't contain his laughter.

"As entertaining as this is, Professor, we should be going." Harry grabbed a hold of Snape's arm, giving it a tug toward the hallway. He turned to Dudley. "Ginny's just upstairs. She shouldn't take too long." Harry didn't give any more time for Snape to say anything before apparating.


	5. Chapter 5

Ron and Hermione had picked out a two level house with three bedrooms. The planning for family had churned Snape's stomach when Harry had given him the grand tour right after arriving; imagining Hermione and Ron in coitus was something he did not want to think about. He had enough trouble coming to terms that such a bright and talented witch had ended up with a Weasley in the first place, thinking of them having children was beyond fathomable.

Each room had been decorated in whites and soft blues. The master bedroom would have been tasteful if it wasn't for the overly-ornate bed with its metal headboard and footboard; there were too many swirls and designs in it, it made Snape's head spin. The sheets were a mess - of which Harry had explained he hadn't touched them since he saw them the first time. Bulky wooden drawers lined along one side of the bed, the top of it neatly displayed pictures and a silver tray that held the usual knickknacks; watches, rings, pocket change. The other side of the bed, in the corner, was an armoir. Harry had opened the doors, but had seen nothing out of the ordinary besides the clothes being hung according to color. Hermione's clothes took up most of the closet, though Ron had a fair share, they weren't anywhere near as colorful. The next two rooms looked about the same, though different styles of furniture. An added armchair, a desk in another. Snape insisted they were wasting their time looking, and was forced into the bathroom. Harry opened up the mirror, revealing a hidden cabinet and pointed at the toothbrushes that were left there.

"Hermione would have grabbed their toothbrushes had she known she was going anywhere. It was hard enough living with her for seven years and not flossing on her command."

"As this is very curious, Mr. Potter, have you given thought to them buying toothbrushes when they arrived to their destination?"

Harry pressed his lips tightly together at Snape's remark and pushed past him, heading down the stairs to the first level. Snape rolled his eyes and suppressed a groan. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, following Harry into the kitchen felt like he was walking through molasses. Harry displayed the fridge and all ten cabinet doors that held plates and cups stacked to perfection. Harry took him to the dining room where even the small chandelier that hung above the dining room table was polished to fine detail. As they reached the study, Snape had crossed his arms and looked directly at Harry before entering the room.

"When you asked for my help, I was aware it was only help you were asking for."

"Indeed it was." Harry said, confused.

"Then show me something you haven't already noticed. I'm not here to do your job fo-" Snape's eyes caught a flicker of something on the other side of the room. Harry attempted to look in the direction he was glancing in, but could not locate anything unusual. Snape pressed past him, with a purpose, and walked quickly to the shelf where two cauldrons were sitting upon.

"Who's cauldron is this?" Snape asked, pointing to the one on the left.

"Hermione's." Harry answered, slowly approaching, watching as the professor lifted the cauldron from the shelf. It was then Harry knew what had drawn his attention. The stand the cauldron had been sitting on was upside down. Snape placed the cauldron on the large desk next to him and grabbed the stand in his hand. As he moved it, he revealed a small figure of the Eiffel Tower. It was laying on its side. It was no bigger than his palm, and turned as he picked it up, looking it over then held it out to Harry.

"It's the Eiffel Tower." Harry stated. Snape made a noise that got caught in the back of his throat.

"Obviously." He stated, waiting to continue when Harry showed no further interest. "Isn't it odd for this figurine to be placed on its side, behind a cauldron stand, instead of being out on display?"

"It does seem a little odd." Harry said, taking the tower from Snape. "You suppose they're headed to Paris?"

"If Miss Granger was leaving a clue, it would seem she picked one that wouldn't use much brain power to solve." His eyes narrowed. "Or does Granger usually keep her stands upside down?"

"She's threatened to ground us for that in the past." Harry admitted. It had been a detail he had overlooked, but potions had not been one of his favorite subjects so it was no question why he didn't notice the mistake earlier.

"Then I suggest you start planning your trip to Paris." Snape raised the corners of his mouth to the best of his ability, gave a small nod. Harry grabbed his shoulder just as he was about to apparate out of the room.

"You aren't thinking of leaving, are you? I mean we've only just solved the first clue. I have no knowledge of Paris!"

"We've solved nothing. I have only shown you something that was out of place. It will not be until you arrive at Paris and find them that the clue will be solved and it is no concern of mine if you know Paris or not."

"But you said you would help me."

"Then visit again when you hit your next roadblock, but do not think I'll be holding your hand through the whole process." Snape pushed Harry away with the tips of his fingers, extended a leg and stepped past him. Harry gave a nod.

"I understand, Professor." Harry nodded. "I'll be seeing you soon then."

Snape arrived back at home and let out a growl. He marched straight into his kitchen and threw open a cupboard just above the sink. Taking down the first bottle of bright blue liquid he spotted, he uncorked it and tipped the contents into his mouth. Almost immediately the dull pain that had come from spending a good part of the day with Harry began to disappear. He chased the liquid with a glass of water, though it still left a nasty residue in his mouth. He turned to the fridge and pulled it open. More out of habit, he knew he wasn't hungry, and let his eyes run over its contents. Bread, butter and jam. There was a plate of something he had forgotten to remove, and decided upon forgetting about it again, and shut the door. He reached above the fridge, grabbed a bottle of his favorite wine, grabbed a glass from a different cupboard, and returned to his living room. Just as he sat down and waved his wand at the cork, he glanced over to a window. Something had moved past it. Something had stared in, then moved quickly as he turned his head to it. Putting the bottle down on the table next to his chair, he stood. Slowly he prowled over to the door, gripped the handle and turned it with his left hand, his right hand raised next to his ear with his wand pointing forward. When he swung the door open, his initial reaction was to slam the door shut again.

"Potter." He hissed, seeing the boy standing there in front of him, smiling sheepishly at him.

"Hi."

Snape lashed his left hand out and yanked. Harry flew in the door with force, and once more found himself pressed against his door. Snape held his wand at Harry's throat.

"Your roadblock better have a good reason for bringing you here so soon after I just left not more than a minute ago."

"Professor, I'm sorry, I wouldn't have come again, but I still need your hel-" Harry felt the wand being pushed further into his jaw. "Seeing as I am unfamiliar with Paris, I was just wondering if you'd be able to be my guide. Just show me the main roads, give me something to go off of and I can do the rest of it myself."

"You are suggesting I have been to Paris?" Snape narrowed his eyes. Harry nodded.

"Yes, sir. An intelligent wizard such as yourself, it is my guess you've been to Paris before."

"Don't mock me." Snape's fingers tightened around Harry's arm. Harry winced. Snape took a few seconds to breathe deeply before releasing Harry. Taking a long glance at his wine, he waved his wand and re-corked the bottle. Turning to Harry, he raised an arm.

"Do not take my assistance for granted, Potter. Next time you pull a stunt like this, I, too, will suddenly disappear and I'll be sure not to leave a trace."

"That won't be necessary." Harry said.

In a flash, the dark and dreary house at Spinners End was replaced with gentle lights and the smell of a clean breeze, as if someone had washed the air and hung it out to dry. Harry was disoriented at first until he began to recognize the shapes of houses and yards. They had appeared at the edge of an alleyway that fed into a residential block. Harry stepped out to get a better look, but was pulled backward.

"Not so fast." Snape removed his wand from his pocket, waved it over himself and transformed his usual long, black robes into a long, woolen, black coat. He shoved his wand inside his coat.

"Keep a tight hold of your pockets. People have been known to lose a thing or two." Snape regarded Harry once more before leading the way out of the alley, and down the street. Harry had to jog to keep up, but fared well in keeping stride next to him.

"When did you last come here?" Harry asked, shoving his fingers in his pockets. The breeze was warm, but carried a slight chill when it left. He wished he had brought a light sweater and decided to make conversation to keep his mind off it. Snape drew in a long, slow breath.

"Years ago. You were still in Hogwarts at the time, I was running messages for Albus."

"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon came here a time or two on vacation. They always left me with Miss Figg so I never had the chance to experience it."

"You aren't missing much. Besides the food, I find Pairs to be annoying and too populated with the natural idiot."

"What's annoying about it?" Harry asked. Snape turned them down a street where Harry could hear the sounds of the city more loudly and only had to listen to understand why he didn't care for the city.

"Too many people for my liking." He answered, lowly. "Try seeing the Mona Lisa while you're here and you'll see what I mean."

"I wouldn't take you as a man who likes Muggle art, Professor."

"On the contrary." Snape sounded amused. "I can appreciate a piece that has been created by Muggles as much as I could a chimpanzee. It's refreshing to see the world from another's point of view." Snape had slowed his steps, they were coming to a path that led into a space luscious with plants and foliage. As Harry looked up the path, he saw it would take them into the city, spit them right on along a river. He was enjoying the sound of the hubbub growing closer as he had never heard any roar like it.

There was music wafting through the air, played from a distance they probably wouldn't get to that night. People laughing, singing, and dancing, it was nightlife that Harry never got to experience much. Work and Ginny had kept him grounded most of the time. He could have closed his eyes and imagined he was in the stands at a Quidditch game as it sounded very much alike, but there was a certain electricity to the air that made it all the more different. Smells of rich and coated foods tickled his nose and a specific smell of freshly baked bread had his stomach rumbling.

"Welcome to Paris." Snape said as they exited the trail. They stood for a second as Harry took it all in. People were gathered all along a sidewalk that lined a river. He looked up and down, a long bridge catching his sight, and beyond that, leaping into the air if only for him, the Eiffel Tower. Snape had tugged his arm, directing him to walk again, and they continued down, following the river for a good while.

"Up here." Snape directed, pointing to a staircase that led them away from the river and up to street level. They walked a few more blocks, Harry took in the new sights as they passed stores of all kinds and restaurants that were filled to the brim with hungry patrons. It wasn't long before Snape had pulled them to a stop, his arm over Harry's chest, and pressed backward, forcing Harry against a building.

"What's goin-"

Snape slapped a hand over Harry's mouth and yanked him to the side, dodging into another alleyway. Snape removed his hand, giving him a silent warning to be quiet, before both of them peeked around the corner. Stepping out of the restaurant they were just about to pass was a familiar red-headed face, a woman in his hand. She looked to be reluctant to leave as he continuously had to budge her forward. Harry felt his anger rise and stepped around the building, back onto the street. He didn't get far before Snape had grabbed him again.

"Don't be foolish." He whispered, keeping the both of them pressed to the building.

"Foolish is not going after them!" Harry tried stepping forward, but was held down.

"And if he becomes agitated with you? Starts a fight with you?" Snape asked.

"Ron wouldn't do that." Harry said. Snape snuffed at that. Harry shook his head. "When I arrived that morning, he acted like nothing was wrong. He'd more than likely do the same thing."

"And where would that get you? Didn't you also say Granger didn't speak?"

"More like she wasn't allowed to speak."

"So it would be more productive to wait to see if you could get her alone then wouldn't it?"

Harry and Snape stepped away from the wall, cautious to keep space between them and Ron, but continued to follow them.

"What if you distract Ron, and I could get Hermione away?" Harry suggested.

"I'm afraid a distraction of that sort wouldn't last very long." Snape answered. "I do not wish to be in Weasley's company for longer than necessary, and the both of us know that he would be out of my presence as fast as possible."

They followed for longer, being led for a few block. It wasn't until they saw Ron force Hermione up a few steps and inside of a building, a hotel, did they start planning further.

A/N: thank you again to all the reviewers, followers and favoriters! You guys make writing fun! I'm getting excited for Camp NaNoWriMo to start, and noticing that cabins have been sorted made me squeal in delight earlier. Having that, and the fervor of the plot I have built for this story is making it almost unbearable! I wish I could just snap my fingers and have what's in my head appear suddenly =) hope you all enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

"What if we just went inside and asked for their rooms? Then we could go to their rooms and disguise ourselves as...as..." Harry stopped talking. He had tried coming up with five other plans, all of them were shot down by Snape who saw incredible loopholes, and was running thin on ideas. Snape had done everything possible to not just outright smack Harry, and was just about to if it wasn't for Harry stumbling on an idea for a disguise.

"We won't need a disguise." Snape insisted. "We'll just have to wait for an opportunity to arise before we can do much about anything."

"What about finding their room? That could help us out immensely."

"You think we can just waltz on in there, ask for their rooms, then what? Pick their lock? Then we'd be back in the spot of putting not only Granger in danger, but ourselves."

"We could at least get their room number so we can keep an eye on their window." Harry pointed out. Snape shook his head.

"Wouldn't work." He said.

"Oh how would you know?"

"Because believe it or not, I've stayed here before many times. One does not simply enter the Hotel de la Magie and expect those kinds of results."

Harry stared blankly at him. Snape sighed.

"There's a charm on the windows to make it look alive, like they're all booked up to keep Muggles from seeking residence." He explained. "As if they'd want to stay in such a run down place." He added, mumbling the words.

From the outside, Hotel de la Magie looked as if it had survived the French Revolution; its walls were crumbling and the brick showing through in places to the rebar that held it upright. The windows held a soft golden glow, and every once in a while, Harry could see the shadowy figure of a person walk past and sometimes stop to look out, and after watching long enough, Harry could spot the place where the effect started over again. He could imagine the rooms didn't look much better than the outside of the building, but now understanding the hotel had been for wizarding folk, he had an idea they carried the same effect as the tents did: spacious rooms, and even house-sized rooms existed beyond the doors, turning the run-down building into a castle. Silence fell over them as they decided no talking was better than talking. Snape had conspicuously waved his wand across the street from the hotel when they arrived, but still in sight of the front door and summoned up a bench. It seemed Snape was planning on being there for a while as when Harry sat on the bench, it felt as comfortable as his living room sofa. Just when Harry was about to suggest giving up and just calling the police to investigate, they were they treated to seeing Ron exit the building, alone this time, walking casually out of the building and headed north. Snape took a fistful of Harry's shirt and pulled him close.

"Keep him busy." Snape ordered, standing. "I'll go rescue the distressed damsel and take her back to my place, just go keep him away from the room."

Harry didn't have time to argue. Snape had reached the front door and pushed inside without drawing attention, leaving Harry to deal with Ron. All he had wished to do to him was punch him, but not wanting to give his knowledge away, he knew he'd have to act like nothing had been different, no abuse had been seen. Harry quickly apparated to a spot just up the street from his direction and turned the corner, acting all the while like he had been there with a purpose, running straight into Ron in the process.

"Excuse me, I am sorry." Harry said, taking a few steps back, looking at Ron, then bursting out with excitement as if the meeting had been naturally unplanned.

"Ron! I didn't expect to be seeing you here!"

Ron looked at Harry warily at first, smiled largely - obviously forced - and acted with only a fraction of emotion as there should have been.

"Hi." He stated. "I know, right? What can I say, when I'm called, I must answer." He laughed an empty laugh. Harry furrowed his brow, still trying to look shocked.

"I was wondering about that. I have a large amount of your mail, you know."

"Oh...you do..." Ron pondered this for a moment then gave a slight nod of his head. "Thank you, I'll have to swing by and pick it up as soon as I can." He reached out, forcing his hand into Harry's and gave it a shake. "It was great seeing you again." Then he left, walking the direction he started out in. Harry stood there, watching Ron leave. He wasn't exactly hurt, but was heavily dismayed by the short meeting. Had Ron really changed that much? He had acted like he didn't know who he was, just bumping into a friendly face one hasn't seen in years and can't remember their name. Harry jogged, catching up with him.

"Where are you headed?" Harry asked. Ron tripped a little at Harry's sudden appearance, but shrugged.

"Just...walking. Just ate a large plate of spaghetti, you know how that just sits in your stomach. Felt a little heavy, so I figured a walk would do me good."

"Ah." Harry said, noting his hesitance in answering. "Mind if I walk with you? I wasn't headed anywhere specifically and it would be great to catch up with you."

"I...I guess...If you want." Ron smiled awkwardly at Harry. "I wasn't expecting company, but since we haven't...seen...each other in a while, I guess that would be fine."

Harry glanced behind him at the Hotel de la Magie and hoped Snape would be out of there soon. There was no saying how long he could keep Ron out walking.

"Well if it isn't the old crony." A portly shaped man with a pug-like face recognized Snape immediately as he entered the building. Snape mentally scolded himself for this, not thinking that he'd be recognized before stepping inside. Taking it in stride, Snape walked up to the desk and kindly greeted the concierge with a cold stare.

"I heard a colleague of mine is staying here. Could you give me his room number or will I have to force it out of you?" Snape pulled his wand from his coat and let it rest on the counter between them, his fingers gently resting on top of it. The concierge swallowed hard at the wand and checked his registry.

"W-who is it you're looking for?"

"Weasley." Snape answered quickly. "Ronald Weasley."

At this, the pug-faced man looked up slowly. The papers he had raised were lowered as well, and he furrowed his brow.

"You? Severus Snape? Looking for a Weasley?"

"It's rather imperative to the business I carry." Snape lied. His eye twitched, but he continued on. "Something about Muggles and needing to contact his father."

Pug-face tilted his head in doubt toward Snape, who in turn gripped his wand tighter and raised it up. This brought on another round of stuttering and shuffling through papers. In a matter of seconds, Snape was on his way to the third floor, room 302. Once he arrived, he knocked. Pressing his ear to the door, he heard nothing from the other side. Knocking again, and this time there was a muffled cry. Causing alarm, Snape lifted his wand, performed the password he had all but squeezed out of the concierge, and the door opened. The room was one of the three Muggle rooms in the building. These rooms were kept on the off chance that a Muggle did show up and expect a room. The door opened into a closet area, a bathroom off to the immediate left.

"Lumos." Snape lit his wand, examining the walls for a light switch. As the light glowed, he shut the door, and a gasp was heard from underneath the window on the far side of the room. He found his way over to a lamp between the beds and turned it on. The walls were covered with large paintings that matched the designs of the comforters. One of the two beds in the room was a mess, and judging by the dishes left on the desk, they had been in the room for a few days at minimum.

Snape barely noticed Hermione. She was on the ground, hugging her knees. Her eyes were barely visible above her knee caps, and from what he could see, she appeared purely terrified. He approached her, keeping his wand lowered and kneeled down beside her. She flinched at his touch when he gently put his fingers on her arm. He lifted them off and back as soon as he noticed her discomfort.

"Merlin, Granger. What has he done to you?" Snape purred, his eyes narrowing. "I'd prefer as little struggle as possible, but I must insist you take my arm." He held it out, letting her decide to take it on her own.

"Ron will be back." She whispered. Her voice was weak and had lost that of the Hermione Granger he remembered.

"Which is why you must haste." Snape raised his arm toward her, but she still didn't take it. "Potter found your clue. I am simply assisting in taking you to safety."

Hermione lifted a timid hand, uncurling her knees, hesitantly, and grabbed his arm.

A/N: Ohmygosh! Guys! I just finished writing chapter 12. Near 3,000 words and probably the most gripping chapter yet! So excited to get there, I had to post another chapter for ya'll!


	7. Chapter 7

Snape had given to life a few candles, enough to see what was needed, giving his otherwise vapid and austere living room a warming effect. He had made the mistake of sitting down next to Hermione and not taking a seat in a solitary chair and she had fallen asleep; his shoulder had become her pillow. As much as he hated it, he allowed her to stay there in fear that waking her up would have her crying again. The sounds of her hiccoughs and sniffles annoyed him, though it should have made him gratified to hear the woman in such agony, it had not stopped since they arrived that he welcomed her sudden fall into sleep. Needing his arms, however, he had given her a nudge and she woke just enough to change her position. With eyes still closed, as if she had forgotten who was in her company, she stretched out on the couch and laid her head in his lap. His black eyes twitched at her as she snuggled deeper and became lost to the world once more. Snape drew in a long and thick breath, held it for a count of three, and then let it out slowly. His eyes traveled to one of books that surrounded them and it floated over to him. That was four hours ago. He finished the tome and sent it back, exchanging it for another one.

One o'clock.

Harry had been distracting Ron for the whole time and Snape reluctantly began wondering as to his safety. Though Harry had insisted he would not get hurt, Snape began to think that he had been beaten by the ginger and dumped in the city somewhere, alone, and unresponsive. Guilt began to invade his thoughts. What would Lily have thought of him, knowing he had put her only son in a position so clumsily, with a traitorous best friend? Just when he thought of returning to Paris and searching for him, did Harry appear, apparating into his living room looking unharmed and well. The sudden 'POP' of his appearance stirred Hermione. She jumped in shock, her body growing rigid, and she was back to curling into the smallest ball she could manage at the other side of the couch. Snape sent her a pitiful look, though he truly meant it in the best way possible.

"It's good for you to show up." He said, turning back to Harry, his pity turning into disappointment.

"I tried leaving earlier, but he was just acting so bizarre, like he didn't remember anything, I had to stay."

"Couldn't remember anything?" Snape stood slowly, entering deep thought. He stood and left the room, leaving Harry with Hermione. Harry's eyes followed Severus as he exited the room before finding them resting on Hermione. Approaching her, he lifted a hand to her as a comforting gesture, one that she didn't want. A stutter escaped her and she pressed as far back into the couch as she could. Harry stopped and knelt down on one knee.

"Hermione, it's me." He whispered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Hermione peeked over her arm, she studied him with conviction and cried again when Harry attempted to touch her again.

"It's best to just let her be." Snape assured Harry, entering the room again. He held a book, bound in leather and was examining the pressed cotton pages deeply, flipping through them when the words on the pages did no justice to his concern. Harry stood, approached Snape and attempted reading over his shoulder. Snape tore his eyes away from the book, side glancing at Harry. It was a look that told Harry he was prying on dangerous grounds, and he stepped back.

"What is that?" Harry asked, instead. Snape shook his head.

"Something that needn't bother your interest." He brought his head up, gripped the book from the top and swung it around to face Harry. "Read this, but look at nothing else."

Harry took the book, pulling it from Snape's hand that refused to let go. He took it closer to one candle to read better.

'...Memoria Obumbratio

Alters the subjects memory; forgets even their most treasured and admired thoughts including, but not limited to people and places. After intake, subject suffers no ill effects besides implied repercussions, is able to function normally in society, and only appears to be aloof to those well familiar with their habits. Potion must be ingested orally. Length of effect is dependent upon who offered the potion. It is their word that can sever the effects*.

*Though highly effective, the recovery period has been found to lack certain results. Highly recommended to choose another potion if complete recovery is expected. See: Memoria Mutationem, Vita Mutatio, Cogitatio Obsessio...'

Harry stopped reading as the list continued. He looked up to Snape and furrowed his brow.

"It does sound like Ron now, but it doesn't say anything about becoming abusive."

"None of the altered potions have that listed as an effect." Snape snatched the book back and snapped it shut. "Regardless, it seems a good enough place to start. If you would follow me."

Snape stepped back through the hallway he had disappeared in, leading Harry to a room set up not unlike the potions room in Hogwarts, except the space was much smaller and not intended for classroom teachings. He waved a hand at an empty cauldron, already warmed by a slow burning fire underneath.

"Finding the antidote will take some time, if this has been caused by a potion at all. All my elixirs have no room for accidents. I suggest you read the directions very carefully and put as much thought as your dear Granger out there would."

"Wouldn't it be easier to get her to do it?" Harry asked shoving his head in the direction of the living room and Hermione. He glanced at the supplies as if they would bite him upon touching them. Snape had turned his back, floating over vials and ingredients.

"Seeing as her demeanor is not exactly up to par, I do not think it wise to entrust such a task to her at this moment." Snape glanced over his shoulder. Harry looked utterly horrified.

"Honestly, boy. It's nothing more than following the instructions. It's not like there's a grade attached to this, or House Points I could take from you. Get your head in the game and start brewing."

"May I ask which potion you're starting?" Harry asked, grabbing the first piece of parchment that had landed on his table upon arriving.

"Unfortunately I do not keep a stock of calming tonic on hand. It will do my sanity well to brew something up for Granger. I do not wish my furniture to be soiled with her tears."

Knockturn Alley had not changed much, remaining dark and desolate as the last time Harry had visited. The coldness had caused him to shiver upon arrival, and catching a small glimpse of sunlight at one end of the pathway made him want to ditch Snape's unexpected apothecary stop and visit the welcoming sight of Diagon Alley. Snape appeared right after him, grabbing his shoulder, and forcing him to walk away from the light before he could change much of his mind. Harry had wished to remain behind, but Snape pointed out that Hermione may have wanted some time alone. She had been watched over since she was taken to Spinners End and being alone might help with her sudden outbursts. Harry couldn't even hand her a cup of tea without her shrieking and acting like he had burned her, so he agreed, reluctantly, and vowed to himself that he would give it an hour. Any longer than that, and he would leave whether Snape was ready or not.

They had just made it into Gravens Apothecary and Oddities before he was regretting his decision already. The people inside the shop was not his kind; all of them appeared sketchy and crass, looking at the herbs and vials upon the shelves and inside barrels over wrinkly noses and mouths drawn so tightly, they were all dressed in dark fabrics, some even worn enough to be considered as rags, he felt out of place in his high end casual business attire. The atmosphere just felt so dark compared to Slug &amp; Jiggers in Diagon Alley, but he knew better than to ask Snape if they could attend there instead. Even if he wanted to, it would have to wait as Snape had been caught up in conversation, showing his list to Mr. Gravens who was sitting behind a desk in a far back corner.

Harry walked along the walls, glancing over the shelves that looked as if they were ready to collapse under the weight of all the oddities placed upon them. He was trying to figure out what had been placed in a small glass jar, when a snicker came from beside him.

"Fancy seeing you here, Potter." The voice was known to Harry, but hearing it this time, he could tell the scornfulness in which his name was said carried no antagonism as it once had. Harry took his attention from the jar and turned toward Draco, who was standing there, gently smiling; an attempt of alliance that Harry returned politely. Besides quick sightings in passing, neither Draco or Harry had bothered talking to one another since the war had ended. Both of them had gone on to live their lives, only hearing what the other had done through paper articles and word of mouth through mutual friends. Harry had found out that Draco had gone on to further his education by learning history of the dark arts and often worked at a museum in London, curating for the Dark Arts branch.

"I'm just as surprised as you are to be here." Harry replied, shaking the hand that was suddenly offered to him.

"Taking a sudden interest in-" Draco paused to look at the jar Harry had been scrutinizing, "-is that a pixie?" Draco lifted a hand, turned the jar around, humphing as the creature had been one he had never seen before. Harry shrugged.

"I was trying to figure out what it was, myself. No clue."

"Strange." Draco agreed, pushing the jar back further on the shelf before turning to Harry again. "I just wanted to see if you'd tell Granger I send my congratulations on her last catch. That was quite impressive to read."

"Oh, sure, yeah." Harry's smile grew slightly larger and he nodded. "I'll let her know. Our department is pleased to have her leading us. They almost got away with it if it hadn't of been for the wand being left at the scene."

"That's just luck gone sour." Draco wrinkled his nose at this and Harry nodded. Draco was talking, of course, about Hermione's biggest catch of her career. After being in the head of the law enforcement section at the Department of Ministry for less than a year, a plan to seize Azkaban and, in the lack of better terms, blow it up to release the prisoners, had been uncovered. It had kept Hermione working late nights for weeks. When a wand was found, left behind at a gruesome murder scene which included the family that had a brother in Azkaban, and refused to join the battle to set him free, that family had been done away with, finished. Harry had lost a few nights worth of sleep when that news had spread through the Auror's. Hermione had found a weak link the week after that, which led to the apprehension of five suspects, and added names to the list of possible suspects who were still under investigation. The leader of the pack had been captured, and was immediately sent to trial and convicted to life in Azkaban, his goons were still awaiting their time on the stand. It was quite the catch and awarded Hermione with commendations and a higher respect among the Ministry. Everyone had been warned that this capture could potentially start a backfire, a revenge of sorts from others within the group. Hermione was not the only one in danger, but anyone else who had anything to do with the capture.

Harry paled.

"Oh my gosh." Harry's eyes grew wide as he carefully turned over the thought that had just hit him. "Oh my gosh." He repeated, pulling a worried look from Draco.

"You alright there, Potter?"

"Draco, you may have just fixed something terrible." Harry shoved his hand in Draco's again, gave it a shake and left. He found Snape searching through vials of silvery liquids.

"I have to run to the Ministry." He stated. "A thought just occurred to me, thanks to Draco, and I may have just solved what's wrong with Hermione. I need to look over her files."

Snape looked blankly at Harry, confused for a moment before he glanced across the room and found Draco, who watched them with a curious eye.

"What did he say?" Snape asked, lowly.

"He brought up Hermione's last catch. We were all warned that someone in that group who is still out there, might seek revenge. I'm thinking that's what this is. I need to get into her office and review the files."

Snape gave a nod and Harry turned, leaving the store as fast as he could. He'd have to stop at home, of course, his invisibility cloak was there. Hermione may have been his best friend, but there was still only so much information that would give him. The case had been kept under classified information and if he had been caught looking at it would mean his job.

A/N: All of you are simply beautiful and wonderful! My day is instantly made better with every favorite, follow and review you guys do and I can only hope these chapters are a good enough show of appreciation! The drama's about to go down, and as it's turning out, will stay that way for a while...but everyone loves drama, right? Nothing better than an angsty fic, IMO =^^=. Love and hugs to you all! Oh! Oh! Did ya'll check out the wonderful pic I made for the story?!


	8. Chapter 8

The bags dropped from Snape's hands when he stepped out of his fireplace and saw his living room had turned into a war zone in the short time he had been gone. Books, of which he had hundreds usually perfectly kept along the shelves that filled every wall, were thrown about the room. The few chairs he had, tipped, cushions removed and slashed leaving puffs of cotton to float about. Glass crunched under his feet as he stepped further into the room and saw that the glass covers that once sat above his head in a chandelier had been knocked over, breaking as it had hit the ground and spread glass everywhere. Lifting his foot, he saw there was some blood that had been dribbled. It formed a path from where he stood and continued through the hallway. Pictures and wallpaper had been torn, a few pictures had been knocked off the wall fully. Snape had picked these up and put them back on the wall as nicely as possible, only growing more angry as they fell off the nails just as fast as he let them go. He heard a sob come from his potions room and spun into the doorway, furious, ready to give Hermione a great 'what for.' The feeling soon disappeared as he saw her, cowering under a table that had not been destroyed. She was shaking, a hand out in front of her, wand drawn and pointing to a cauldron that had been overturned.

"Granger." His voice came out worried, something he wasn't expecting and he cleared his throat, rushing over to her. He pressed her hand that held the wand out down, slowly grasping the wand between his fingers, and pulled it out of her hand. She squirmed as she lost grip, clawing at him to get it back, but he quickly hid it within the darkness of his robes before grabbing her elbows and pulled her from beneath the table.

"Stop, please, no." Hermione resisted, but was not strong enough to keep herself sat. She cried, eyes still stuck on the cauldron as Snape forced her to move.

"What happened?" Snape asked, making her stand. Hermione refused to look at him. She pointed a shaky finger and Snape followed it to the cauldron. Stepping away from Hermione, he approached the vessel, only drawing his wand when he heard a groan come from under it. He grabbed a handle and pulled it up. Inside was a small being, a House Elf, dressed in a deep crimson potato sack. It shook its head a couple of times, regaining itself. Seeing Snape and the wand currently being thrust at it, appeared panicked for one second, before relaxing, smirking at Snape, then vanished.

"H-he was sent by Ron." Hermione's voice was no louder than a whisper. Her bottom lip quivered, then trembled, then she collapsed into a heap on the ground. Snape was torn on how to accommodate the now wailing woman. Reluctantly, he kneeled in front of her.

"Nothing is going to happen." He said, taking a hand and placed it on Hermione's back. She wriggled, shaking his hand off of her and Snape had to wonder if it had physically hurt. He let it hover in the air for a minute before dropping it back to his side.

"He'll come." She said. "He'll f-find me and-and." Her breath caught in her throat getting stuck between the cry that wanted to come out that she was holding back. A pained sound, followed by another attack of wails won the internal struggle and Snape reached out again. She fought against his hands, losing balance, and fell to her side.

"Even if he does, he won't be able to do much." Snape assured her, giving up on trying to comfort her. He ran a hand over his face and then pushed back into his hair. Straightening out and rising, he waved his wand and the mess around him quickly flew through the air, righting itself.

(Fancy page break goes here)

Harry took a break, sitting up and rolled his head to work a kink out of his neck. The words on the papers in front of him had begun to blur together and yet he had come upon no information that would have helped the situation any. He had read through three files and all he took away from them was that they were involved in the plotting and were guilty of it. There was no further information that would assist in uncovering if they had any hand in Ron's behavior. Knowing that he'd need help, Harry's next plan that he decided on almost immediately was to take all the files home, give them to Snape and Hermione to look over. Maybe they'd see something that he wasn't. Gathering them in his arms, he grabbed his cloak and left, closing the door to Hermione's office as slowly and as quietly as he could.

He walked down the dark hallway, stepping lightly. Though the Ministry had been closed for the evening and he had been in the building alone, there was always a chance of others being there with the idea of working late to start an early weekend. As he walked, his footsteps, as light as they were, echoed off the tile floors and stone walls, and every few steps, something would squeak. Harry stopped, turned, and looked around him. Seeing nothing, he continued walking and just as before, a few steps in, a squeak would come. He switched the files and his cloak into his left arm, digging into his pocket for his wand with his right hand and spun on his heel, arm extended, threatening the empty space behind him. Out of nowhere, a figure in a seated position hurdled toward him, laughing.

"No need for that now is there, Harry?"

"Mr. Weasley!" Harry dropped his wand hand immediately as the hunched figure came into view. Arthur was sitting in a wheelchair, wheeling himself around Harry.

"I've just discovered these. Excellent Muggle invention if I do say so myself. My arms are getting tired, though."

"They do have motorized ones." Harry quipped, turning with him.

"Do they now?" Arthur let out an amused giggle before coming to a stop, swinging the chair around to face Harry. He crained his neck up at the stack of papers in Harry's arm before he had the chance to cover them.

"What do you have there?" Arthur asked. Harry shrugged, acting like he was holding something that he was supposed to have. Arthur matched eyes with Harry, knowingly.

"Hermione's taken ill. I stopped by her office to get her some work." Harry stated. Arthur clicked his tongue then forced the wheelchair's front wheels to lift off the ground. He fought with balance for a while before he was steady, balancing on the large back wheels.

"Come, come, Harry. No need to hide the snooping from your old pal Arthur, now is there?" He slammed the front wheels down, leaning close to Harry. "I must say, however. You're caught with those and you'll be in for it."

"I'm aware of that, Mr. Weasley." Harry nodded, fixing his cape so they covered the files better.

"What do you say to a race? I have another wheeled chair in my office."

"That sounds very fun, but I must be-"

"Just one quick round through the building. Last one back to my office buys coffee for the week."

"I'm really very sorry, Mr. Weasely, but I must deliver these."

"Too busy to entertain my curiosities. I see." Arthur nodded and directed the wheelchair around Harry. He stopped just on the other side of him and turned his body, his head craining to see Harry. "You know, it would be a shame if someone knew you'd been looking at those files."

"Wha-" Harry's forehead creased and watched Arthur grin and continue on down the hallway. Harry ran to catch up.

"So, first one around the building and back to my office wins?" Arthur suggested again, leading the way back to his office.

"You drive a hard battle." Harry stated, his eyes narrowing at the man. For a moment Harry had thought that Arthur hadn't been effected by whatever was claiming the rest of the Weasley family, but hearing him try to blackmail him for reading through files was something he knew Arthur would never do, especially if he knew what absurd psychosis everyone seemed to be under. Reaching Arthurs' office, he put his files and cloak down, grabbed the spare wheelchair and prepared for a race.

(Another page break! Dun dun dun!)

With the last book in place, Severus took one look around his newly cleaned house and gave a nod of approval. He had thought of asking Hermione to help, but seeing as she continuously stared glossy-eyed at the floor, he knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate for more than a few minutes and guessed he'd have to do most of the work anyway. Moving her to the living room, she now sat on the couch, her feet pulled up under her, and a book open on her lap, though she wasn't reading it. He had given her a few chapters to read on rare potions thinking it would help pull the old Hermione back, and for the first few minutes he believed it was working until he realized her eyes were moving, but no acknowledgement of the words seemed to be hitting her. He wanted to snap the book in her face, to shake her shoulders and demand that she get her mind in a right spot, to snap out of whatever sulking she felt she needed. The last time he had seen Hermione, she had been that smart-mouthed know-it-all he found hard to tolerate. That was far more acceptable than the mournful mess she had become. He couldn't even walk past her without her tensing.

His fireplace rumbled, a short alert of incoming traffic, and before long Harry had stepped out of it, sweaty and out of breath. He held a stack of files in his arms and handed them to Snape who took them, distracted with Harry's demeanor.

"Don't ask." Harry said, catching Snape's glances. "Arthur's lost it as well. Just had to race him to keep my shuffling through classified information a secret."

"You trust him?" Snape said, taking the files and placing them on the couch beside Hermione who was now watching Harry with wide eyes.

"I don't have a reason not to. He wouldn't out me when he was sane, I don't know why he would do it now."

"If he's lost it like you have said, I wouldn't be surprised if he's just putting you on."

"I let him win to hopefully persuade him further to keep it a secret. He seemed very pleased and more than willing to adhere to the rules we set fourth. May I have some water?"

Harry panted, rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth. His throat ached, feeling dry from the race. Snape considered him for a moment then silently nodded toward a doorway. Harry found himself in a kitchen and searched through a few cupboards before he found a glass.

Snape had been looking through a folder when he returned, sitting on the couch next to Hermione, an ankle on a knee, bouncing his foot absentmindedly. Harry looked to Hermione next. She was sitting as stiff as a board and obviously trying to divert attention from herself. He leaned down next to her, attempting conversation.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." He said. "I don't know what's going on right now, but I'm trying-we're trying to figure this out." He put a hand on her knee, pulling a scream from Hermione and she removed his hand immediately.

"I wouldn't do that." Snape said, warning him for the second time that day and rolled his eyes as Harry ignored him.

"Hermione. It's me, Harry. I'm not going to hurt you." He tried again, Hermione nearly climbed over the back of the couch and Harry pulled back quickly. He looked to Snape who was watching Hermione, sadly, worried. He stood and pulled Harry to the side.

"When I returned the place was turned upside down. She had defended herself against a house elf." Snape paused, watching Harry look back to Hermione. When Harry noticed Snape had finished talking, he continued. "I couldn't keep him from disappearing in time, but Hermione said Ron had sent him. I don't think we should leave her alone anymore."

Harry nodded slowly. "One of us is going to have to stay with her."

"One of us?" Snape snorted. "She's your friend. You're staying with her. As much as I love your company, I believe it will do her good to be in someplace familiar."

"Take her home, you mean?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not necessarily to her home, just some place not here."

"No." Hermione's voice was small and shaky, but she had spoken. She was standing now, looking back and fourth to each of them, her head shaking.

"No, no, I-I don't want to be with Harry." She said. Though there was evident pain in her voice from saying the words, the look on her face was strong, something in it was frightened. Snape sighed, drooping his shoulders and he went over to her.

"Harry knows you better. He'll be able to pick your mind easier than I ever could."

"I am not going with him." She stated, sounding stronger this time.

"Then I shall leave." Snape stated decidedly. Hermione grabbed his arm. Snape shook it, but she continued to grip tighter. He tried removing her fingers, but no matter how hard he tried, she found a way to grab a part of him. Harry coughed, causing both of them to stop and turn to him.

"It's okay, Professor. Hermione. I'll just return later when you've had a chance to read through the files." Harry looked once more to Hermione, who turned her head, tears threatening to fall, before stepping back through the floo.

"You're determined to make my life hell again, aren't you?" Snape asked Hermione when she let him go and fell back down to the couch. Hugging herself, she leaned forward, her body shaking. Bewildered and unsure of how to react, Snape growled, falling into the couch beside her and picked up the file he had been reading to continue where he left off. He had not asked for this task, and had a feeling when he agreed to help Harry he'd be sucked into something he didn't want to be included in. He had half a mind to take Hermione to Harry's himself and leave her there, but a part of him, the better part of him kept him from doing just so.

(The break before the notes here)

A/N: Here's another chapter for ya'll! Many thanks and love to everyone! I don't know why my page breaks aren't showing up =(, so I hope you enjoyed my creative side! Camp starts tomorrow, and I'm excited to add to the 13 chapters I have ready to go already and start my official word count.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Here you are! Hope you enjoy! Xxx!

Severus hid himself away in the study located on the second floor at the top of the stairs. Immersed in the files, he came to the conclusion that he didn't know any of the suspects, so one thing was for certain; they weren't in the Inner Circle of the Death Eaters. A part of him was disappointed at that, and another part of him was relieved. Any word on attacks had him on edge since the war. Most of the Death Eaters that escaped were eventually caught, and a few had switched sides to keep from going to Azkaban though there were still plenty of people who followed Voldemort long after his death that weren't in the Inner Circle, and this was where Snape became peeved; There was a good chance that whoever planned an attack on Azkaban to release the prisoners was a follower at any level. Half the inmates there were along this line and freeing them would unleash another purity-driven war. Ulterior motives is what it came down to, and Snape had thought Harry had been smart to think the latest group Hermione had put into there had something to do with the sudden change of disposition, they just had to find out who was running the plan and why.

He stopped reading to rub at his eyes. The type was small and the moving mugshot pictures were beginning to bug him out. Just as he began to think about stopping, a sound of clattering pots and pans travelled up the stairs. Snape paled, grabbed his wand and ran from the room. He took the stairs two at a time, imagining Hermione defending herself off against another intruder. He reached the bottom and whipped into the kitchen, his pathway littered with pans - some had broken handles - and pots - some with fresh dents. His heart was pounding as he searched the room, falling upon Hermione who was standing there, holding a cookie sheet. The moment she saw him, she raised the sheet in defense and began to step backwards.

"It was an accident." She said. "I was looking for the big pot and-and-" Her breath caught in her throat as she backed into the kitchen table, not being able to move any further. "Please don't hurt me." She begged.

Snape took a step forward and she fell to the ground, screaming in protest. Snape stepped forward again, lifting his feet over the pans and placed his wand on the table. Hermione was begging, curling herself into a small ball, trying to fit all of herself underneath the cookie sheet.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'll fix it, please, please don't-" She began crying so hard, she couldn't speak. Snape was standing over her at a loss. He breathed hard, keeping his own emotions at bay. He knew how she felt at that moment and could only watch, seeing himself as a small boy, curled up and begging for forgiveness. His father, a drunk, would quite often beat him for something as simple as tying his shoes wrong, and would be at his father's mercy until his mother would rush in and stop the pelting. His heart ached for the woman at his feet who continued begging when she could get enough air into her lungs, who tried so hard to hide.

"D-don't h-hurt me."

Snape recalled his mother, the way she used to fall to him, grab him in her arms, and hold him until he calmed, until he noticed that the kicking and the smacking had stopped. Slowly he kneeled down, changing into a sitting position when he reached the floor. He pried the cookie sheet away from her, setting it aside and reached out. She thrashed at his touch, wiggling and squirming under his hands that took hold of her arms and forced her into him. She beat at his chest, and he did nothing to stop it, he was swallowing back his own spirit that wanted nothing more than to recede back into that small boy and cry with her. Whatever Ron had done to her was unspeakable.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He spoke softly, adjusting his arms so they were around her and tightened his grip. "You're alright." He said, beginning to rock back and fourth slowly, gently. If this is how his mother had felt, so angry, so pitiful and pathetic, he wondered how she had kept it up for as long as she did. Noticing she wasn't in any danger, Hermione stopped squirming. Her weight shifted, growing heavy as she fell into him, exhausted from fighting, and she let herself be held.

"I don't know what that weasel did to you, but whatever it was is detestable." As much as consoling someone in this manner was also detestable to him, he relished in the silence. Hermione was no longer screaming, or begging, or crying. She was not flinching at his touch, and for a moment he thought she had fallen asleep until she lifted her head, looking at him behind red eyes. He forced the corners of his mouth to turn upward. "I wouldn't cause you any harm no matter what you did."

She sniffed in again, Snape could feel her tense up. He brushed a few strands of wet hair that stuck to her cheek away from her face. "You knocked some pans over." He stated. "It's not the end of the world and definitely not something anyone should get beat over."

Hermione dabbed at her nose with the back of her hand and moved her jaw a few times before sound actually came out.

"I dropped the spaghetti last week." She said, her voice coarse, "Ron hit me, then kicked me when I went down to clean it."

Snape frowned. Hermoine put her head down and sniffed.

"He called me a...a worthless Mudblood." Her voice was pained. "And that morning, the toilet overflowed. When I couldn't fix it, he threw the water in my face."

Snape pulled his mouth into a tight line. She was crying again, but quietly this time, almost like her tears had worked on a switch and someone had thrown it on.

"He beat me for burning his toast. He beat me for spilling a drink, and for forgetting to tell him his mother had called. I couldn't go one day without it."

Before she could add sound to her tears, Snape pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her though this action was unknown to him.

"I don't know what happened to him." She spoke, the words were muffled against him, but Snape could still understand. "He was fine, then all of a sudden he's angry."

"When did this start?" Snape asked.

Hermione was silent for a while. "About a month ago."

"A month ago and he has you this scared?" Snape pulled his head back and looked down. Hermione glanced up.

"It was shocking at first, but no matter what I did, it had a consequence. I couldn't so much as wish him a good morning without doing something wrong."

"Couldn't you have gone to Potter or your parents?"

Hermione shook her head forcefully, pulling away from his chest.

"No, oh god no." Her lip trembled. "He forbade me to even look at Harry. He claims we were having an affair and threatened to kill me if I ever spoke a word to him."

Snape winced at this. All he could remember was the trio being inseparable during their school days and the thought of them being separated just didn't feel right. Even he could see that she and Harry had no chemistry and in his opinion, Hermione was too smart for him. Given she was too smart for Ron and how they ended up together was an enigma all on its own.

"Is that why you didn't want Potter to stay?" Snape asked. Hermione nodded and hesitated. Snape waited patiently for her to speak.

"Ron feels that Harry has been stealing the spotlight. He's not very happy with him right now, and even though he's not here, I know he's bound to find out about it." She sucked in a heavy breath. "I don't know what will happen when he does."

"He's not going to." Snape said, insistently. His eyebrows raised when she looked at him again. "As far as I'm concerned, you're never going to see him again and he's not going to have a chance to do whatever it is he does to you, to you."

"But he's my husband. I'll have to go back to him sometime."

"Not if I can help it." Snape furrowed his brow. "Potter and I are working on figuring out what has made him...and the rest of your family...this way. Until then I am going to have to insist you stay here." Snape shifted and stood, grabbing Hermione's hands he lifted her to stand as well. She sniffed a few more times. "Now, since you're going to be staying here, this nonsense will have to stop. You're not in any danger, I have no interest in hurting you one way or another. The crying stops, the flinching stops." He raised an eyebrow at her. Hermione nodded slowly clearing her throat and standing a bit straighter. "You're an intelligent and strong-minded woman, not this weak and crestfallen thing I've seen for the past few days. We're going to work on getting that girl back."

Hermione nodded again, and before Snape could turn, she rushed forward, threw her hands around his middle and hugged him. Snape simply stood there, diffident in how to respond, resisting the urge to curl the lip that so badly wanted to in disgust.


	10. Chapter 10

Wonderful silence enveloped him. Silence and peace from being alone, simply alone with no one around to bother him had him feeling like the richest man in the world. Lucid dreaming was one of his favorite things for this reason, being able to take control of a dream and aim it toward something that would help him instead of make him feel annoyed upon waking was a preferable night. Usually he was able to keep himself in a state of lucid bliss until his alarm would go off, but sleeping next to someone who suffered from bad dreams was proving more and more difficult. It was the third night Hermione had taken to sleeping next to him. The first night he had fixed up the guest room, thinking she'd like the bed better than the couch, and woke up to her saying she couldn't be alone. Grudgingly, he gave up half of his bed and allowed her to sleep beside him. It was that night he found out that Ron even haunted her dreams. He had offered her a dreamless sleep potion, but she turned it down claiming she had taken them before and didn't like the grogginess in the morning, to which he offered her a caffeinated potion, to which she claimed she didn't want to be one of those potion-binging people and refused to take it. Short of cramming it down her throat himself, he found it easy enough to simply shake her awake and that would be it for the night, they could both sleep peacefully onward after that.

This night, however, she had squirmed relentlessly for the third time in only a couple of hours, and the shaking turned into shoving. Just as he was about to move to another room something had caught his eye. He turned on his side, facing her. It had been quite a while since another woman had shared his bed, though none had been as young, or as beautiful as the one there now. He wouldn't openly admit it, but Hermione held a beauty not many witches of her age had. Her slim and angled features, not unlike a certain witch he had fancied back when he was in school. Though their looks had been different, their minds were nearly identical. Lily had been sharp witted, quick tongued, and always had something to say about everything. Lily had pressed her nose into book after book until she had the library catalogue memorized, and passed her OWLS and NEWTS at the top of the school. Hermione had shown the same longing for learning and Snape toyed with the idea that had it not been for Harry and Ron becoming her best friends, he may have actually favored her through school. The girl alone was not repulsive and though her constant will to be right and know everything did get trying, it was a very valuable and attractive thing to have. If only the nightmares wouldn't get in the way.

Her head began moving again, back and forth, back and forth. Lightly at first, then became stronger, more forced. Snape reached out a hand and gently placed it on her arm. She woke with a start, took a moment to recognize her surroundings, then surrendered to her pillow again, turning her back to him. Snape smiled inwardly to himself before frowning as she scooted back. She lifted his arm, fit herself under it, then wrapped it around her before falling back into sleep. It had hit him as hard as the hug she snuck on him did. Unexpected and not exactly wanted. Pulling his arm back slowly to free it, she tightened her grip and he gave up. He huffed once, making note to speak to her about it in the morning, and allowed himself to fall back asleep.

Snape woke the next morning on his back, his arm was numb and it took some effort to roll it from his eyes. His other arm had been sprawled to his side and was tingling. Opening and closing a fist, he let his head loll over to the side and gave a start as Hermione laid there, her head on his arm. She was watching him and blushed the moment she saw him look at her. Furrowing his brow, he watched as she sat up and left without a word. Snape rubbed his face vigorously, as if he could rub energy into his brain, before forcing himself to sit up and start a new day.

Trudging into the kitchen, he observed Hermione standing on her toes attempting to reach a frying pan just out of her grasp. He stepped up behind her, reached up and brought it down for her, their hands slightly overlapping as she grabbed the pan from him and thanked him meekly, he didn't notice the slight jerk of her hand followed by her forcing herself to relax. Groggily, he worked his way over to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup of coffee that hadn't even finished brewing yet, grabbed the Daily Prophet that had been sitting on the kitchen windowsill, and entered the living room. Not one for mornings, he found it was easier just to avoid all conversation and contact with anyone at least until the coffee kicked in.

That contact came just as he was finishing his cup of coffee and folding his newspaper to retrieve another. Hermione came out of the kitchen balancing two plates in one hand and the coffee carafe in the other. She sent him a small smile and filled his cup before setting down the plates. Snape looked over the food, saw pancakes and toast, and smirked.

"The toast isn't black." He stated sarcastically. Hermione paused for a moment, her eyes growing wide in a second of fear before falling into her seat, glaring at Snape.

"I learned my lesson on that a while ago. Forgive me for taking care in detail." She said before pulling a few rolls of silverware from her pocket.

"I actually like burnt toast." Snape said, picking up a slice nevertheless and taking a bite out of it. "But this isn't half bad." He finished, chewing. Hermione sent him a hopeless look before she dug into her own plate.

The floo rumbled, signaling an arrival and Hermione tensed when Harry stepped out of it. She immediately focused her attention on her plate. Snape grabbed a napkin from the silverware roll and wiped his mouth, standing up. Before Harry had a chance to say a word, Snape had grabbed his arm and directed him to the back door.

A sliding glass door led out into a small yard. They stood on a concrete slab that was cracking and chipping in places.

"I was actually stopping by to check in with Hermione." Harry said, glancing through the glass door. He spotted Hermione still sitting at the table, her eyes still downcast in her food. Snape crossed his arms.

"I'm not sure how to break it to you lightly so I'm just going to come out and say it. Weasley has put some sort of fear into her about the two of you. She's a little apprehensive to speak with you."

Harry turned sharply back to Snape, his jaw falling open. Snape nodded in agreement.

"I think it's best that only you and I contact one another. I've only just settled her down and I really don't want to go through that again."

"Settled her down?" Harry asked. "Has she been crying all this time?"

"Not all this time. It's been a few days since her last attack."

"Oh." Harry nodded, glancing in the window again. "I've been thinking maybe we should go back to Paris. Find Ron and drill him about what is going on."

"Do you think that wise?" Snape asked. "He's obviously sent lookouts for her and seeing as a house elf has found her, he might be in a right mind to quarrel with you." Snape crossed his arms. "Especially if he has an issue with you and her being near each other."

"What else am I supposed to do?" Harry asked growing anxious. "He acted like he didn't know me last time and I haven't been able to find much information on anyone listed in the files."

"We haven't had much luck with that either. Can you get that wife of yours to assist? Maybe she can point something out? Something that Ron has told her and not you?"

Harry stared at Snape for a moment before he shook his head. His hand cupped the back of his neck and he squeezed, letting it run over his hair for a moment.

"Ginny isn't herself either." Harry stated. "Depressed all the time, she barely talks now. Before I left for here she said she was going to her mothers."

"I'm..." Snape hesitated. "I'm sorry to hear that." He finally said decidedly. Though it wasn't much of a surprise what with hearing about Weasley and Minerva, he'd be more surprised if Ginny wasn't affected in any way. "Have you heard of anyone else acting differently?"

"I haven't checked though Ginny did mention George being taken ill at St. Mungos. I haven't had the time to check in on him." Harry slumped his shoulders. He had spent the last few days catching up on work in the Ministry that he had fallen behind on, and keeping a close eye on Arthur while he was there to make sure his wheelchair didn't lose any wheels. Once he had stopped him from riding down the stairs, of which, Arthur was grateful and publicly announced Harry was a hero in every aspect, causing him to bow away and attempt to hide from his coworkers who would want to poke fun at that. Not a lot of work got done, however, as his mind had been elsewhere.

"I've just reached a dead end in this. I wish Hermione could speak with me, her help would be greatly appreciated."

"You could try, but I doubt she'd talk." Snape said before reaching out and grabbing his arm when Harry bounded for the door. "But if you set her off again, I will personally ban you from my property, do you understand?"

Harry gave a nod and glanced at Snape's fingers until he let go. Harry slid open the door and approached Hermione, slowly. She seemed to grow nervous as judging by her foot that began bouncing at his approach.

"I just want to know why Ron went to Paris." Harry stated, stopping a few feet from her when her foot bounced more heavily. She turned her head away from him.

"Look, 'Mione. Snape told me what happened-why you aren't speaking to me and I know you're scared, but we're trying to fix Ron, turn him into his old self again. I'm not exactly sure where else to look for this information so it would be great to have an answer from you, even just a small one. A hint, maybe?"

Harry took another step closer. Hermione shied away. Snape grabbed his arm in warning. Harry let out a sigh, nodded at Snape, then went back to the floo.

"I guess just contact me then." Harry said sounding morose before taking one more glance to Hermione before flooing out.

Snape stared at the fire place until it rumbled down to quietness before turning around. Hermione was watching him, tears in her eyes until she saw he was looking and lifted her chin, not wanting to break down. Snape took his seat again and lifted his toast, but didn't take a bite.

"Since Potter mentioned it, what were you doing in Paris?" He asked. Hermione shrugged.

"Ron didn't say much about it. He just said he was called away on a job and was taking me with him.

"A job." Snape repeated. "Funny that Potter wasn't invited along."

"I think it was something he wanted to do himself. I don't think it was even anything Ministry related. I just woke up that morning and he was ready to go."

Snape finally finished his toast while pondering what Hermione had said before giving up and picking up his paper to continue reading.


	11. Chapter 11

"You're more than welcome to help yourself to my shampoo." Snape declared for the fifth time. Hermione's mouth dropped for the fifth time as well and before she could lecture him on the meaning behind the nutrients his shampoo was missing, he raised a hand. "Alright. Fine. We'll go to your house and pick your stuff up."

He had grown tired of hearing her wish for her things. The past few days had been nothing but 'my soap smells so much better,' and 'my shampoo gets my hair much softer,' and 'my pillow's are fluffier.' He had made the mistake of snapping at her, explaining to her that it was risky letting her leave, that when she threatened the tears he had no defenses left. Giving in just to shut her up was his only choice and his final consent to joining her had made her smile, something he had grown accustomed to wanting to see on her. Sometimes it took nothing more than allowing her to read a few potions books he classified as restricted, while other times it was nothing more than letting her tuck her feet under his legs when they sat on the sofa to keep them warm. Though he still had to bite his tongue and remind himself why she was there in the first place, he found her company to be unobtrusive and something he didn't know he'd actually start enjoying. He made himself believe that it was for the intellectual debates they had rather than the companionship he didn't know he was missing.

Arriving at her house, he didn't know what to expect from her. Certain that she'd have a moment, he stayed behind her until the house was searched, both of them walking with their wands out and clearing every room to make sure Weasley hadn't returned or unexpected company had been there. Snape had opted to wait in the living room while Hermione gathered the things she needed. Not more than five minutes into flipping blindly through a coffee table book was he running up the stairs toward the sound of his name being called in a blood-curdling scream.

He found Hermione in the master bathroom. She stood, gripping her left hand. Her hand was a bloody mess, appearing as if the skin had been eaten away, layer by layer until the tips of the bones in her fingers were shown. Quick to react, Snape drew his wand and began muttering incantations as fast as his tongue and lips would let them. Whatever it was had eaten through most of her hand, stopping at the base of her thumb. She was quivering, holding back screams.

"Now would be an appropriate time to cry." Snape mused as he came to a spell that seemed to stop the injury. He heard Hermione giggle and lifted an eyebrow to her. She was still holding back, the rebel.

"What caused this?" He asked and Hermione pointed to the bathtub where her shampoo bottle laid, the top off and the liquid from inside snaking its way to the drain. It was eating away at the porcelain of the tub, smoldering and smoking.

"It appears someone had depended on you returning for your things." He grabbed a towel that had been rolled and placed on a shelf, wrapping it around her hand.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped. Snape let her hand loose.

"Is that hurting you?"

"No, the towel's white. The bloodstain will never come out."

"For Merlin's sake." Snape narrowed her eyes at her and continued using the towel, wrapping her hand up. "You have everything, yes?"

Hermione nodded.

"Then lets head back, get your hand taken care of. Leave any liquids behind as I dare say they've tainted all of them. Don't want to take the chance and find out, though."

"But my-"

"-Not. Another. Word." Snape spoke dangerously. He bowed his forehead at Hermione before bowing it toward the door. Hermione, pouting, held the towel tightly to her hand and walked out. Snape grabbed the small bag she had packed before they reached Spinners End again.

Snape rushed her to his potions room and pushed her down into an overstuffed chair before hurrying to a cabinet that sat in the corner. The cabinet was larger than him and made from oak, two doors swung open and he went through the potions until he found the one he was looking for. It was green, kept in a clear bottle, and appeared thick as it barely moved as he went back to her. Uncapping it, he raised his hand in the air and a stank of towels flew through the air, settling on the ground beside him. He took Hermione's hurt hand, unwrapped the now soiled towel and studied it. When he pulled on her sleeve, moving it up her arm, she fidgeted.

"Am I hurting you?" He asked and she shook her head.

"No." She said, empty. "I'm just not fond of people being close to that arm."

Looking down at her arm, when he pulled up her sleeve he had revealed a light scar. An 'O' and a 'D' were visible. Against her small protest, he moved the sleeve further up, revealing the word 'mudblood.' The scar was light. Old. He wouldn't have noticed it if he wasn't looking.

"In the war, when we were captured at Malfoy Mannor, Bellatrix carved it into my arm."

Snape ran his thumb lightly over it. He knew they were captured and tortured, but nothing more had been said of it.

"Bellatrix was a bitch." Snape said. "We never got along, and for good reason. Keep your hand there." Snape let her arm go and tipped some of the potion into the towel. He returned to her hand, drawing the potion down, over the raw and bloody mess. It stuck to her, coating her hand and was cooling, a sensation Hermione did not expect to feel.

"I don't suppose you'd have anything in that cabinet that makes scars go away?" Hermione asked quietly. Snape turned her hand over and applied some potion to her palm, his eyes flicking up to hers before looking down again.

"That scar isn't anything to be ashamed about, Miss Granger." He said, tutting her when she started to argue. "The memory attached to it may be quite horrible, but all of that is over. That scar is a badge of courage, something you lived through and triumphed over. If you really want, we can see if any potions would work, but I really think you should treat that scar as a prize won instead of a torture given."

"It's just hard seeing it every day. All the memories attached to who gave it to me...I can't see it anything other than a scar. And Ron pointing it out, I just don't like it anymore."

Snape finished her hand and put the towel down. He sighed, studying Hermione for a moment before pulling back his own sleeve on his left arm. His Dark Mark blended into his arm, but the lines of the skull and protruding snake were still clearly visible against his fair skin.

"I'm reminded daily of this, but my thoughts are hard pressed on why I have it in the first place. He didn't just give these to anyone, only to his must trusted. I received it because I loved someone so deeply to save her and protect her child just as much as you did to receive your mark. I regret it every single day, but there is also not a day that goes by without knowing if it hadn't of been for receiving the scar, life would have turned out differently and not in a favorable outcome."

Hermione looked from his arm to hers. She had tried thinking of it differently, but seeing the word scratched into her arm from the woman who she hated the most in life, it was hard to make peace with it. It wasn't that she wasn't proud to be a Mudblood still, it's what she was after all, but the torture she had been put through was still something that woke her up in a cold sweat at nighttime.

Snape waved his hand at a towel, transforming it into a long bandage and wrapped her hand.

"I don't have any proper bandages at the moment. Never really expected to heal a whole hand before." He stated. "Not to worry, Merlin knows I have enough towels."

Hermione had laid down for nape and Snape found it a good time to contact Harry, knowing he'd need to know about Hermione's hand. He lowered his face into the green flames and saw Harry on his couch.

"Potter." Snape greeted and Harry gave a start. The books and papers he had on his lap flew through the air, and scattered on the ground as they landed. Snape gave an amused smirk as Harry rose from his seat and settled before the fireplace.

"It's never good to be absorbed in your work that deeply." Snape said. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I simply wasn't expecting visitors." He said. Snape gave a nod.

"I have some news actually. As it seems, Granger's safety is more dire than we thought."

"What do you mean?"

"Either Weasley is trying to kill her or he's not the only one we have to watch out for. She had a little mishap that about did away with her hand."

"What?" Harry shrieked, growing closer to the fire. "Is she alright? What happened?"

"She'll be without the use of her left hand until her skin grows back. Someone had poisoned her shampoo. Thankfully she spilled it before using it, or I'm afraid the damage would have been greater and she couldn't have been saved."

Harry let out a growl. He stood and began pacing, his hands balling up into fists at his sides. Snaped watched him until he stopped in front of the fire again.

"I'm going to Paris." He stated matter-of-factly. "I'm going back there, finding Ron, and beating the -shit- out of him."

"As much as I agree with you, might I suggest going about it with a cool head at first?"

Harry shot him a look. "You aren't stopping me from-"

"Stopping you? No, I urge you to go. I'm only suggesting before you harm Weasley to take the situation into consideration. I could care less how you deal with him, but might I remind you there's something behind this and if Weasley is, in fact, bewitched, there's no way you'll get it out of him."

"Fine. I'll just talk with him, then." Harry's tone was still angry if only to please Snape, but his body language suggested the first thought was still highly probable.

"I shall leave you to decide." Snape said before lifting up a small piece of paper. "But first, would you mind running some errands for Granger? She's quite persistent on having her own things and going out with her does not seem a smart option right now."

Harry reached into the flames and took the list.

"Good luck, Potter." Snape said with meaning, before pulling his head back from the flames.

A/N: Hope everyone had a great Easter! I promise bunches of words in the next chapter! Thank you to all my reviewers and followers! Love you guys!


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione watched Snape over the edge of the textbook she was reading. He was standing over his cauldron mindfully devoted to the liquid he had been churning for the past half an hour. A year ago, she would have said the man was crass and selfish. She couldn't understand how he could hermit himself away like he did, or even refuse to speak with anyone, let alone Harry. After the war, and after seeing that his persona was not just an act, she gave up any hope she had for him to become more involved in anyones life. The most she had seen of him had been in meetings at work, when the Minister of Magic would require his expertise for cases even she couldn't solve. During the quick moments, he wouldn't even give her a greeting, but would only blink those stony black eyes to her in recognition before going about his business. Now, however, there he was, and there he had been, standing feet away from her, brewing more Instant Skin to apply to her hand without needing to be asked. There he was, mending her, taking care of her, comforting her.

He looked older than he really was, but it fit him. She found the lines on his face to be handsome, refining the wizard and bringing to him a visual aid to the wisdom he held. Something she hadn't noticed before until that day, watching him as he chopped and crushed, squeezed and grated the potion ingrediens. She had watched him do it many times before, but only while he was keeping a careful eye on his students and never showed the kind of meditation he was showing at that very moment. Knowing he was giving this much attention to the potion, this much care for something meant for her, it touched her differently.

When he paused, feeling her lingering eyes, he connected with her for a brief moment, glaring - more likely a habit formed from years past that he could not break - then softened. Hermione continued watching as he returned his attention to his work, mixing away. In just the past week he had become more to her than just her ex-professor; he became a friend, and realizing that, she smiled. There was something catching about him at that moment, something peaceful that she had never expected to radiate from him. He was in the moment of doing something he loved and the more she watched him, the more she fell in love with the exact art of potion making as well.

Laying her book down, she went over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He had mixed the potion a few more times before he froze, then after a few seconds, glanced down at Hermione, an eyebrow raising so high it caused crinkles to form near his hairline.

"What are you doing?" He asked not out of cluelessness; he knew she was hugging him, but out of confusion that she was actually hugging him.

"Hugging." Hermione stated the obvious, her cheek pressed against his arm. She looked up at him through her lashes and smiled softly. "Thank you." She said after a while and Snape gave a small nod, relaxing his face, and continued to stir the pot. Hermione, feeling empty with his lack of reciprocation, gave a final squeeze and stepped back, sighing, though she left a hand to rest upon his back and she lifted onto her toes to look into the cauldron easier.

"Tell me-" Snape said, pulling the spoon from the liquid and gave it a knock against the cauldron to rid it of the sticky substance before placing it aside. "Have you ever squeezed Baneberries before?"

Hermione shook her head. Snape held out his hand, dropping a few blood red berries into her palm.

"Their juice will not harm you unless ingested, in which case, would kill you within minutes."

Hermione nodded feverishly.

"They're used to make poison, Baneberry Poison to be exact. Known to do damage to both beasts and humans." She finished, guessing his next words. He gave her a look that fell somewhere between annoyance and approval causing her to bite her lip. She didn't mean to ruin his lesson, but couldn't help sharing that she had known about the ingredient she had been given.

"Plain out squeezing the berry will cause the skin to rupture, the tannins to break and absorb within the juices. However, if you roll them in between your fingers..." He demonstrated by taking a berry and rolled it gently between his thumb and forefinger until a small and delicate drop was pushed from it, beading at the tips of his fingers, "...you'll eliminate the danger and expel the juice freely." He let the drop fall into a tiny glass dish before throwing the berry into a cast iron pot. "We need exactly eleven berries to be rolled just like this. Can I trust that your good hand can handle the chore?"

Hermione grinned, nodding quickly again, then placed a single berry between her thumb and forefinger, copying the motion Snape had made until she released the bead of juice and dropped it into the glass dish. Snape nodded his approval and after watching her repeat the process for a few berries, he grabbed a dragon liver and began cutting it.

"Though a poison, when added with Goosegrass and Moonstone, it takes on an opposite reaction and as such, can be used to deter the effects of what may have destroyed your hand." Snape scooped the liver he had chopped and let it fall into the cauldron. "Not usually added to Instant Skin, but seeing as we're dealing with quite a large area of damage, it may hasten results and in turn, give you the ability to use your hand faster than dealing with the original potion alone."

Hermione was listening intently. She had noted that his voice did not take on the dangerous purr she had gotten used to while under his instruction at Hogwarts, but had been lush and impassioned. She rolled her berries, daring not to speak as she wanted to concentrate on obtaining the perfect squeeze, and it wasn't until her last berry had been discarded did she dare to ask the question that had begun bothering her.

"Why aren't you married?" It came out a little fast and disrespectful to her ears and she winced, quickly thinking of a softer way to put it. "You can be so chivalrous and so devout. I'm surprised some witch hasn't noticed and taken advantage of it, I mean."

Snape thought for a moment, holding back a smirk that threatened to show and took on his usual expression of stinginess.

"I have no time for those games." He came off cold and Hermione cringed at his answer, wondering if she had just ruined the moment.

"It's only a game if you make it one." She whispered. "And any woman who would dismiss you as quickly as a pawn in some kind of real-life Wizards Chess would be downright stupid." She turned away from her berries, pushing the glass container aside. She saw his jaw was clenched tight, his eyes were purposefully trained on the potion now bubbling inside the cauldron, and she forced her way into his line of vision.

"You probably haven't heard it often, if even at all, but you have shown me nothing but compassion since I've been here. Seeing that side of you has me convinced you have the ability to love, and to care, and I am completely flabbergasted that you have kept it to yourself."

His fixed stare and turned completely on her and she forced herself to glower back at him as much as she wanted to shrink into herself just then. And before she could stop herself, she stood on tip-toe, raising her face to his, and pressed their lips together to prove her point. There was a moment of shock, then a moment of acceptance, feeling him give slightly underneath the kiss. She had placed a hand against his chest and could feel a sudden rush of a heartbeat. Snape took that hand with his and pushed her back. His expression had changed in that instant act of affection into confusion, leaving her anxious for his answer. The small space between them grew larger as he stepped back and he dropped her hand.

"The heart was made to be broken, Miss Granger." Snape had chosen his words carefully. "Though I can understand your current need to fix that part of you, finding it from me will not help you overcome the vulnerability you currently possess."

Hermione nodded blankly. She looked as if a train had just hit her and Snape felt a dropping sensation in his chest as she turned without speaking another word and left the room.

He concentrated on the potion, the feeling of her lips against his still fresh in his mind. Dumping in the berries she had squeezed mimicked the way his conscience felt just then and he suspired heavily, cursing himself in his mind. Sympathy was not one of his best features and the kiss had thrown him off guard; he was not expecting it and knew that even if he was, returning any kind of adoration toward her would have been difficult. The last time a female had touched his lips had been forced, under the watchful eye of the Dark Lord, and he could never think of a time when a woman had voluntarily advanced on him.

Stirring the potion a few more times, he had an internal war. Willing to just let it all go and forget it had happened seemed easy enough, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that she had meant what she said, that any woman who had brushed him off was stupid. Lily had fixed herself in his mind, the hurtful way she had looked at him at the exact moment he knew their friendship was no longer valid and the exact moment he knew his heart had been shattered. It was this thought that had him feeling the truth of Hermione's words. There was more that needed to be said on the subject as he firmly believed that Hermione was only searching for a way to cope with her pain and loss, and planned to let her know. He stirred his cauldron once more, set the spoon aside and left the room.

"Miss Granger? Miss Grang-" He said, following the hallway and guessing she had receded into the living room, he was not prepared for what he saw.

Ron had been standing in front of the fireplace, the scared expression of Hermione peeking out from over his hand that had been clamped across her mouth. His wand quickly moved from her throat to pointing directly at him, but Snape had his wand drawn quicker than he could say a spell, and pointed right back at him.

"I didn't want to believe it at first. Hearing Hermione had come here, I said to myself, I said 'There's no way Hermione would trust the slimy 'ol git enough,' but lookit here."

Hermione struggled against Ron's hand, but he only tightened his grip, pressing his mouth to her ear and made a hushing noise.

"Unless you enjoy pain, I suggest you let her go, Weasley." Snape hissed, his fingers tightening around his wand. Ron snickered.

"Think I'm scared of a spell, Snivelly? Go ahead then, give it your best go." Ron waved his wand, a burst of light headed straight toward Snape, but Snape deflected it.

"Let her go." Snape repeated. "Why put her at risk of being hurt when you and I can end this on our own?"

"Surely you're not worried about your aim." Ron gasped just then. "Or maybe destroying my brother's ear has made you double guess yourself?"

"Surely you're hiding your cowardice behind Hermione if you refuse to let her go."

Ron shot a curse. Snape was grazed by the flash of light, and though he could feel his arm was cut and bleeding, retaliated with a spell of his own, but shifted his wand at the last moment when Ron had pulled Hermione in front of him as a shield. He bared his teeth, flicking his wand three times as Ron let a mixture of spells fly one right after the other. The room grew quiet as neither of them moved, both wands still surely aimed at the other.

"I had only disliked you for being friends with Potter. Now I dislike you for what you've become." Snape said, daring Ron to take another shot at him. Ron's eyes flashed, narrowing.

"What I've become does not concern you. The only thing that matters is retrieving my wife and teaching her a lesson."

"The only lesson you'll be teaching her is to better judge her mates." Snape took a step forward, the tip of his wand sparkled as a spell flew. He had aimed deliberately for Hermione and watched as the spell hit her, causing her to grow flaccid. Ron had not expected it and could not hold the dead weight that suddenly challenged the hand that had been wrapped around her mouth without compromising his wand. He let her drop to the ground and sprang forward, a growl escaping him and Snape grabbed his shoulders, using all the strength he could muster to fling the man aside. Snape didn't take a second to watch where the red-head had landed before he lunged to Hermione, grabbed her with his free hand, and apparated both of them out of Spinners End.

Hermione had been placed on a couch when they arrived at the small cabin Snape had taken them to, and he sat beside her. His long fingers had gently smoothed Hermione's forehead and cheeks as he called her name, urging her to wake from the stun she had received. The spell was nothing more than a weakness charm, causing her to lose any rigidness in her limbs and basically forced her to become helpless in every aspect. It was the least harm he could cause without actually hurting her in one way or another, and didn't want to risk hitting Ron with a curse that could have hit her instead.

"Hermione." Snape's voice began to grow stronger the more he had to say her name. He had worried the spell had come out too strong given the rise in his emotions at seeing Ron, and the strength he had sent it was only justified the longer he had to wait for a sign of movement. Not usually lasting more than a couple of minutes, twenty had gone by without so much of an twitch from her.

He had made the spell during his school days, thinking it would come useful to defend himself against James and the rest of the Marauders when they would spend hours stalking him out just to torture, but he had never had to use it, therefore finding a counter curse was never a priority. Knowing the spell would wear off in due time had never been a concern for him to make a counter, and he had never thought he'd willingly hit someone he hadn't wanted to with it either.

"Hermione." He was nearly commanding her to open her eyes, though he kept his touch soft. Color was returning to her cheeks and Snape knew it was only a matter of seconds before the rest of her would follow along. When she opened her eyes finally, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. She recoiled at first, thinking she was still in danger until she noticed her surroundings had fully changed. When she recognized Snape, he found himself hugged again, only this time the meaning behind it was more than before; deeper, fear had taken the place of longing, and Snape returned it.

"He came out of nowhere." She said into his shoulder. "He was just there, just grabbed me out of nowhere."

"He's gone now." Snape soothed her as best as he could. Her fingers tightened around his robes and he couldn't help a smile that reached his face.

"I didn't know he was there, he just...he just was there and I...I..."

"He's probably still there, wondering where in the hell we've gone." Snape pressed a closed mouth to her head as she began to tremble. The cries that escaped the confines of his shoulder tearing him into two. "You're safe. Our location for the most part is untraceable. It would take an army to figure out where we are." Snape cooed into her hair. Hermione pulled back enough to look at him.

"Where are we?" She asked.

"Welcome to the long lost winter retreat of your favorite Headmaster." Snape smiled gently. Hermione's head darted around as she took in the cozy feeling around her. The place had been a guarded secret, but a loved one. Dumbledore much preferred this place to the confining walls of his Hogwarts office and living quarters when school was not in session. Snape didn't even know about it until after his death, in which the old Wizard had given him the location included in his last note to him. The note had been wisely worded and it wasn't until that moment did Snape fully understand what Dumbledore had meant by 'for assisting me in taking mine, may I assist you in saving one.'

A/N: dun dun dun...the plot thickens, ;) enjoy guys! Next few chapters have proven to be wordy!


	13. Chapter 13

"I need you to help me understand." Snape hissed, growing angry with Hermione as she sat, curled into a ball, her hands were over her head, her face hidden. She had only spoken a few words since arriving and after realizing what had happened, had seemed to recede back into that scared little girl that Snape did not want to see.

"Can you not think of a single person who has a house elf? Anyone that would be willing to let Ron use it to find your location?" He got no reply and had to fill his hands with a tea cup and a tea pot to keep from strangling the woman. The only thing he had gotten out of her before she had sulked had been that they had known he had been involved and now another person had been put into danger.

"You said this started a month ago?" Snape asked, watching Hermione closely for any sign of an answer. "What were you guys doing a month ago?"

He walked over to the window, staring out at a rolling lawn filled with trees. Getting no answer he was left to mull things over himself, maybe throwing out ideas would spark some kind of response.

"Was Weasley planning the trip to Paris? No? Perhaps it was something to do with the case, did you apprehend anyone? Even if it isn't tied to this particular situation? Miss Granger, it would be nice to at least have a hint of your time line."

Hermione raised her head, her hands falling down slowly to her knees.

"Harry's party." She said, her voice coarse. "We were planning Harry's party."

"Who all knew about it?" Snape asked, watching Hermione raise her hands again, only this time they wrapped around her upper half and she took on a glazed look.

"At that time, Ginny and all the Weasley's. We had mentioned it to a few people at work, and I think Molly had sent out a few owls to the Order."

Snape halted in his step. The Order. Harry had mentioned McGonagall had acted strangely when he had seen her. Everyone that Hermione had listed had been said to have acted differently after the party.

"Was there anything unusual about the party?"

"Besides Ronald threatening me to stay away from Harry?" She let out a sharp snort. "I was too busy wallowing in my own pity to notice. Even if I did notice something, it obviously wasn't worth it to remember it."

"There was food, yes?"

"Of course."

"All homemade?"

"Well, yes, of course. Molly made everything herself, and Hagrid brought his infamous cake and-"

"Was there anyone who didn't eat anything?" He asked, urging her to continue. She furrowed her brow at Snape thinking to herself why such a question would be asked.

"I'm pretty sure everyone had something to eat." She stretched into a sitting position, tucking her hands under her legs and leaned forward, suddenly catching onto where Snape was headed in his thinking. "Are you suggesting the food has something to do with this?"

"It seems plausible that it may have been tampered with."

"But that doesn't explain Ronald's actions for the month leading up to it."

Snape opened his mouth expecting his tongue to automatically form words that would shoot her down, but only air came out. He paced the floor, rubbing his neck as if that would somehow massage the answer into his brain.

"Would Weasley have had contact with any of your enemies?" Snape asked.

"Enemies? You mean the people we've put away? Only as little as possible. If I remember right, he only captured one person that would have caused a scene for trying to sell faulty toilet brewed potions, otherwise he only ever spoke about the usual patrol stories."

"Is there a way we could get a list of all that he contacted?" Snape had stopped pacing and had crossed his arms, looking hopeful. Hermione nodded.

"It's possible, but will stir up some questions in the Ministry."

"That may be unavoidable if it comes down to it." Snape inhaled. "I think the best course of action would be to find Minerva and see if we can't get any information from her. As I understand it, Potter had said she acted too busy to speak with him, but I'm sure we can gain her attention."

"You...want me to come along?"

Hermione nibbled her lower lip and Snape nodded.

"I'd rather have you next to me getting attacked then here alone should anyone know of this place and come to check it. Grab your coat Miss Granger, it's chilly."

...

They had counted eight kids standing in line, leading from the gargoyle statue back into the hallway and it only grew more the longer they stood in front of it. The gargoyle had not moved. The password that would cause it to turn had no effect what-so-ever, which did nothing to please Snape. He stood there, growling every curse he knew under his breath with Hermione shushing him at every utterance.

A Hufflepuff said, "We've been waiting since first class," and Hermione was further aghast to learn that a few of the kids in the line had been waiting days to see her. Most of them had been sent by professors; a punishment for speaking out in class or disrupting the usual spirit of Hogwarts. The others had just been waiting to seek guidance from Headmaster McGonagall, not expecting the line and just as shocked as Hermione and Snape had been.

"Has she been out of her office at all?" Hermione asked of the Hufflepuff. He bowed his head, shaking it sadly.

"We haven't seen her in days. Weeks even."

"Months." Added a Slytherin behind her. "Since the beginning of term."

Hermione regarded him carefully, then turned to Snape, worried. He nodded, raising a hand knowingly and turned to the gargoyle. Removing his wand, he pointed it at the statue and said a few spells, none of them having effect on the stone. Hermione raised her own wand.

"Spiritus enim lapis." Nothing. "Praemium." Still nothing. "Liquescimus!"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Granger, but stone does not melt." Snape had said of her last attempt. Hermione shrugged.

"It was worth a try." She answered meekly. "Isn't there another way in?"

Snape fell silent, glanced at the students judgingly, before taking her arm and pulling her down the hall. He didn't speak and she grew confused until she recognized the path they were taking. Though it had been years since she had walked the halls, Hermione could recall the way to the dungeons as if it had been yesterday; the only thing missing was a book bag and the fear of running late to class. She followed a few steps behind Snape, almost having to jog to keep up with his long strides, and nearly lost him on the long staircase that winded down into cold air if it wasn't for him grabbing her and yanking her sharply to the right.

"Aren't the classrooms thi-" She began to point, but Snape had started walking again.

"We aren't going to the classrooms." He hissed.

Hermione didn't have to ask again where they were headed. A large wooden door loomed over them in the distance, even towering over Snape when they stopped in front of it. The long wooden planks that made up the door were held together with thick and matted metal. Large rivets were spaced every couple of inches, and a large doorknob had finished off the look beautifully. Snape's old living quarters were behind that door.

"Cascara Sagrada." He spoke loudly and clearly, but the door did not budge.

"Damn." He muttered.

"Hoping they didn't change your password?" Hermione asked jokingly, pulling a glare from Snape. It was quite obvious that in the ten years of his absence the password would be changed.

"It was worth a try." He answered smartly, squaring his shoulders and looked at the door again, raising his wand to the wood and pressed the very tip of it to the door handle.

"Reveal your lock." He ordered it, and almost immediately the metal rivets in the door moved, sliding from their spots to form a circle. Within the circle, a hand shape sunk into the wood. Snape raised his hand, fit it against the shape, and then pulled it back sharply, shaking it.

"It shocked me." He said, studying his hand and flexing his fingers. Hermione stepped up to the door, but did not raise her hand. She was studying the handprint carefully.

"It looks like it should fit a woman's hand." She pointed out, noting the more slender finger shape it took on, and the shape altogether was more petite than a man's hand.

"By all means, have a go." Snape said, smirking. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"You're insane if you think I'm going to willingly shock myself." She said.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?" A voice had joined them from behind, one that Hermione had not heard in years and one that summoned up memories of trouble. Snape's eyebrows rose as he recognized the nasally voice and turned around intensely.

"Argus." Snape greeted him curtly, holding out a hand for him to shake. Hermione had opted to remaining where she stood, not exactly pleased to see the old janitor again and not exactly willing to converse with him any more than she had to.

"Severus." Filch had said, taking Snape's hand tightly and gave it a sturdy shake. "You do know attempting to enter another's private rooms is considered a crime at Hogwarts?"

"We are very aware of that, however, it is with utmost importance we find a way to enter the Headmasters office."

"Ah yes, your old floo." Filch reclined his head.

"Yes. It seems Minerva's sealed her office shut."

"She has requested no visitors." Filch answered sharply.

"May I ask why that is?"

"You may ask, but I cannot answer."

"I can promise you it is quite imperative to our reason for being here."

"Normally I would love to indulge such information to you, Severus, but unfortunately even Minerva has refused to speak with me. That floo wouldn't help you much either."

"She's sealed herself fully in her office?"

"I'm afraid so. The only things that have free access to her quarters are the house elves, and even then, they seem hesitant upon waiting on her."

At the mention of house elves, Hermione and Snape exchanged glances. Hermione grew tense at the thought of the house elf that had been sent to find her being from Hogwarts and tried to push the thought from her mind as Filch and Severus continued speaking. There wasn't much that could be said, Filch was just as clueless as everyone else, and not as helpful as they wished he could have been. They made their way up from the dungeons and walked along the hallway again heading to the entrance hall.

"What about Hagrid?" Hermione asked, grabbing Snape's arm to stop him from exiting. "Hagrid was there, we aren't sure if he's been affected yet or not. Maybe he could tell us something?"

Snape agreed, nodding though hesitant, and they headed back through the castle to the right part of the grounds. The last bit of hallway they had to get through had led them straight past the Herbology classrooms and they had both spotted Neville busy trimming a plant that appeared to have eyeball shaped pods protruding from the leaves. Hermione slowed her walk until she stood on the other side of the window opposite from Neville and waved, catching his eye. He had squinted at her as if he was trying to recall who she was, but soon grinned and held up a finger before walking away. Moments later, he was bustling out of a doorway, still grinning.

"'Mione." He greeted. "What a surprise you showing up." He looked to Snape and gave a nod. "Severus, good to see you."

Snape sneered at the boy, placing his hand on Hermione's back and tapping his fingers, trying to gain her attention, but she was already talking with growing speed.

"We were trying to figure out if McGonagall was available and found that she had sealed her staircase. Do you know of any way to get up there? We have a problem that she may be able to explain."

"Minerva? I haven't seen her in a minute. I should probably drop by and let her know we're going to need more soil for our first years. How have you been Severus?" Neville looked to the man who stared back at him strangely.

"I've been well." Snape's mouth had barely moved in his answer, his voice was as thick as molasses. Neville nodded and smiled.

"Good, good. The Potions Professor we have now? Well she isn't as exact as you were, but the kids seem to enjoy her enough. Can you believe we actually have a person worse than Finnegan this year? He's already blown down a wall in charms and I hear he started a pretty good fire in Potions, although none of us had seen the damage."

"Neville?" Hermione asked. Snape's fingers tapping more rapidly against her back did not go unnoticed, she had felt them the instant she realized that Neville had not shown any sign of discomfort around Snape. For as long as she had known him, even the slightest hint of their old Potions Professor would send him reaching for an anxiety potion, even at the party, she had remembered he had been on a keen watch for him showing up out of nowhere even though they had assured him he wasn't going to be there.

"I'm just wondering how you've been feeling since I last saw you?" Hermione asked, cautious now. "I hear there's been a kind of...sickness...going around with everyone who attended...a food poisoning, kind of."

"Oh that's really too bad. I've felt great, never better. I've been remembering a lot more lately - oh, and speaking of, I have something for you." Neville said. He held both his hands up, motioning for them to wait as he disappeared back into his classroom. Hermione whipped around to Snape the moment they left and Snape was staring at the spot Neville had disappeared in, jaw hanging open and obviously shocked.

"Have pigs learned to fly or did he not act like I was here to bring him a death wish?" Snape asked. Hermione's eyes were wide and she had no idea what to say. No words came to her mind, and when the glass behind her shattered, she managed to scream.

Snape had grabbed her, pulled her aside and drawn his wand. Hermione had peaked around Snape's shoulder and was able to see Neville, hidden behind his plant with eye-shaped pustles, grinning wildly at them with his wand raised.

"Run." Snape said, before pushing her ahead of him. "Run!" He barked and Hermione followed direction, letting her feet take her as fast as possible to the exit. She could hear Snape following closely, and he only stopped her as soon as they were outside to point her to the direction of the front gates.

"But Hagrid-"

"-If Hagrid was at that party there's a good chance he'll attempt an attack." Snape shook his head. "There's no way I can hold up against a giant." He had a hold of her arm and was pulling her along until they reached the gate where he removed both of them without waiting another moment.

...

The Burrow had looked quiet from the outside, but both of them were on edge, wands clasped tightly in their hands. Though Snape knew from Harry's accounts that the Weasley's had been changed as well, he had to see to what extent those changes had been and exactly how.

"First sign of danger and we're leaving." Snape spoke low before slowly stepping toward the house. Hermione remained close behind, willing herself to stop the slight shaking her body had started. Reaching the door, Snape knocked, and almost instantly, the door was thrown open and a overly jovial Molly had greeted them.

"Severus! What a nice surprise. And Hermione too? Come in dears, come in!" Her hand waved in wild circles as she stepped aside. Snape and Hermione entered, baffled at what they saw.

Every surface had some kind of food item upon it. Plates, foil and plastic bags were stacked on top of each other, toppling in some areas. The smell of the house was amazing, Snape and Hermione had to agree on that as the smells of the food mixed together and turned the house into a sensual experience, but the sight was frightening.

"You've been...keeping busy, Molly." Severus spoke after taking two turns to look at everything. He settled on Molly who had her hands clasped and was nodding. A small ding was heard from the kitchen and Molly gasped, excusing herself, running into the kitchen. Hermione gripped his arm.

"One thing's for sure, any duels to take place would end up as a basic food fight." She quipped. Snape smirked, letting his eyes scan over all the containers and ingredients again. They fell upon the couch, the only part that had no food on it and saw a heap of bones. Bones? Snape stepped closer, and as the heap became more identifiable, Hermione let out a small scream.

"Ginny!" Hermione collapsed by the couch. Barely recognizable, Ginny laid there, sunken, red eyes, frail form, and almost unresponsive if it hadn't been for her eyes moving to look at them. Hermione rubbed her cheek lightly, taken her hand, shaken her gently, but the ginger had refused to move. Molly appeared beside Snape unexpectedly and he started, nearly drawing his wand on her, but noticed she was holding a plate of food to him, shoving it in his direction.

"I figured you would like some food to take home with you. A new recipe." She looked down to Hermione. "I hear it has aphrodisiac properties." and winked.

Hermione shot her head around, gawking at Molly who only tittered.

"It's time you and Ron make me some grandbabies."

Snape sneered slightly. He looked down at Hermione and found himself feeling slightly protective of the girl. He looked back at Molly, taking the plate forcefully from her hand. He reached down, taking Hermione and forced her to stand, throwing his arm around her, protectively. Molly showed no sign of anything but happiness.

"Thank you for your hospitality." Snape said, pulling Hermione to the door. Hermione had struggled slightly, wanting to return to Ginny, but he had a tight grip on her she had no choice. Letting themselves out the front door, Hermione allowed a few tears to fall after the door had closed.

"Did you see her?" She choked back a sob. "We need to take her with us. She isn't healthy there." Hermione turned, taking a few steps back toward the door, but Snape kept a tight hold of her wrist.

"An effect of whatever curse is causing this." He pointed out. "We need to get to the bottom of this."

"But she'll starve-"

"-starving, Miss Granger, is the least of her problems." Snape said. He raised the plate of food in his hands. "And I'm sure we can solve one of them now."

A/N: thank you for the reviews and favorites! One of these days I'll get back to everyone personally on here, but doing everything from my phone makes it hard. I also upload this story on Wattpad, so if you'd like a personal reply, you can always review over there. Hope you enjoyed this long chapter, have a few more in the queue with high word counts =) Happy Reading!


	14. Chapter 14

A cold rain fell from the dark clouds that had hung around all day both outside as well as inside the cabin. It was a modest place, warm and inviting. The smell of burning wood when Snape had lit the fireplace added a certain feel to the air. He would come here occasionally, but not often, only when the mundane repetition of life got to him, he found the get away to be a godsend. He could never fully relax in the cabin, however; killing Dumbledore had torn him in two, and though he knew it was a favor he had been asked to do personally, there was a part of murdering friends he would never be able to get over. Having Hermione there helped take his mind off the constant reminder of Albus, but it was not much relief as he had begun worrying for the woman. She had sat outside for most of the afternoon, and remained sitting on the wooden steps that led from the porch to a bit of grass that separated them from a lake after it had started raining. He had checked on her a couple of times, but got no more than a blink of recognition.

He wasn't sure how long it had been raining for when he noticed it, everything outside had been drenched, and grabbed a warm and thick blanket. He went out to a Hermione who had been soaked, and placed the blanket over her shoulders, knowing very well that it wouldn't help, but adding an extra layer seemed the best idea at the moment. He looked at her and frowned at her silence before sitting down next to her. He rested his arms on his knees and glanced out over the lake, no steaming and blurry as the rain disturbed the surface. It was so serene, so calm, almost picturesque, and would have liked to sit there forever if it hadn't been for the moisture already soaking through his layered robes. He wouldn't go inside without Hermione, though. As much as he'd wanted to let her stay on the porch, he did not want her to catch a cold.

"I'm sorry." He said, placing a hand awkwardly on her back. Knowing Ron had been abusive, it was just a minor discomfort in his life, but actually seeing it happen changed his feelings of the situation. Now knowing that there were others against her only made things worse. All of it strangely resonated his life, from abuse to suddenly losing friends and people he cared about, he truly felt for the woman.

Having watched his father treat his mother in an eerily close manner had stirred up forgotten memories and feelings. Though his mother had died a few short years after his father, the doctors had blamed it on heartbreak; Snape knew it had been from the conditions of their relationship. His mother had been dependent on his father, and had fallen so much into herself, she had become a shell without him. There were days where Snape was left cleaning up her filth because she had been so out of it. Feeding her, changing her, he had raised himself before he should have and had considered her dead long before her last breath. By that time, Lily had disowned their friendship and the only 'family' he had left was found in the small group of Death Eaters that had formed a few years before His reign actually started. Repressing those memories far back into his mind, he had forgotten how powerful they actually were. Watching Hermione in the same state his mother had been while knowing the pain of seeing friends work against her, he was forced to see her lose the glimmer of life. Hermione sat there emotionless, and Snape couldn't help but see what she was going to become.

"It'll take time to adjust, but don't forget yourself." He said. Hermione's head turned at this and for a moment he felt victorious; his mother had never acknowledged a word spoken to her.

Their eyes matched and Hermione had noticed the usual black eyes had lightened considerably. They were neither coarse, nor hard. His crow's feet had deepened in worry, and whether he noticed it or not, the concern he wore was completely obvious. For the first time since she met him, he looked frightened, alarmed, and it both warmed her to think he actually cared, and shocked her again that he knew how to act in this manner. She collapsed into his shoulder, shivering slightly as his arm wrapped around her and the already drenched blanket pressed against her. For the most part, his arms were comfortable. She knew the padding she felt on his shoulder was from his robes, the tell-tale signs of a bone underneath could be felt as he embraced her. He was warm, though, emitting heat that she found herself inching into. She was surprised he was even holding her, after she had kissed him, the rejection he had showed made her sure he wouldn't be this close to her again.

"Where did you learn this?" She asked.

"Learn what?"

"This." Hermione said, tucking deeper into him to emphasize her question. Pressing her head to his chest, she confirmed he had a heartbeat and the thought of him having an actual heart, a working, one impressed her. The thought had occurred to her that when Lily died, his heart had somehow frozen over, or had ceased in working all together, leaving him as just a walking corpse. She heard him chuckle through his chest.

"Contrary to belief, I am human, Miss Granger. I may not show my emotions as freely as some, but I do experience them on occasion." He watched the top of her head as she pressed into his chest. He could tell she was listening for a heartbeat. "I know it's a little hard to believe, but it does work." He shivered. "However, it is in danger of freezing over if we don't get out of this rain."

"It is a bit chilly." Hermione said before pulling away from Snape.

"Chilly." He mumbled, rolling his eyes. "I'd hate to see what you'd consider cold."

Leaving the cold behind them, Hermione had pulled her wand from a pocket and raised it to dry herself. Snape grabbed her hand and shook his head.

"To keep our location secret, it may not be a great idea to produce magic here."

Hermione groaned, lowering her wand. He was right, though she hated to admit it. Every spell cast had a link back to the Regulation Office at the Ministry, and if Ron was looking for her, she would suppose he'd have been keeping an eye out for her name on the list. Her stomach rumbled, loud enough to not go unnoticed by Snape who nodded toward the stairs.

"Go change into some dry clothes. There's no food in the house, but I do know of a little place down the street we can go to."

The plate of food Molly had given them was tested after arriving. It seemed harmless enough; Snape had only found traces of fertility potion, that Hermione would have been fine to eat, they had both agreed that it was better in the trash.

The Good Time Tavern sat hidden away behind a bank of trees that most would miss seeing if they hadn't been looking for it. The outside was decrepit, wood paneling was rotting away. The roof was missing shingles and a few of the windows were boarded up, leaving Hermione to wonder if the restaurant was even safe to go into - let alone, still in business. Snape pressed her forward, opening a large rusted-red door with a thick brass handle, waving a hand to allow her to go in before him. Bracing for the worst, she entered.

The inside appeared more together than the outside, but was still ratty and scruffy. Darkly lit, she saw a bar ran along the wall to their left. High bar stools were bolted to the ground, running the length of the bar. There were two elderly men sitting on either side who paid no attention to them as they entered, but rather, admired their reflections in the drinks they had before them. In front of them was a small, but long partition. The left side of it doubled as a countertop, while the right side had been turned into one long booth, tables big enough for two continued down to the end. On the wall to their right, another half-booth mirrored the booth part of the partition. On the far wall was a small dance floor, and just beyond that, a wall separated a kitchen with double swinging doors and a half window.

Snape pushed her gently, guiding her to a table on the right wall. A short and chubby waitress with cheeks too red to be natural approached them just as they sat down. She leaned on Snape's shoulder, her jaw chewing quickly on gum, and gave him a wink.

"Beginning to think we finally saw the last of you." She grinned. Hermione watched as Snape grew smug.

"It will take more than your cooking to get rid of me."

"Well maybe tonight will change that. Willy's working the line, wouldn't suggest ordering anything but the wings or burritos."

"Sounds good." Snape gave a nod. She stopped and turned to Hermione, taking her weight off him until only her well manicured fingers remained on his shoulder.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" She asked. Hermione glanced around, still unsure of the place.

"Whatever Willy isn't serving I guess?" Hermione whispered, not even sure of what the menu consisted of. The woman had been sent into hysterics, laughing at her answer. Snape sat there, grinning before ordering burritos for the both of them and Hermione was left confused. The woman turned, one hand settling on her hip, her other hand waving in the air politely dismissing herself. Hermione tilted her head to Snape and he raised his eyebrows.

"That's Edna." He said. "Bit of a floozy, but harmless. Give her some time though and she'll grow on you."

"I take it they know you here." Hermione said as she watched Edna go behind the bar and converse with one of the men sitting there. More people had appeared at the bar and it took a minute before Hermione concluded they must have apparated after their arrival as she would have seen them enter otherwise.

"Practically lived here for a while." Snape said. "When the war had ended, this was an escape I could come to, to escape any judgment."

Edna returned shortly, a tray floated next to her filled with glasses. She lowered it enough to grab them, placing two waters before them, and a large shot glass filled with amber liquid in front of Snape.

"Here, sweetie." She smiled to Hermione and placed a tall glass filled with a cherry-red liquid, complete with a straw and tiny umbrella in front of her. "On the house, hun. You let us know if Severus here makes you uncomfortable and we'll kick him right out the door."

"Sure." Hermione grinned now with amusement as Snape's eyes narrowed at the remark. He scoffed at Edna.

"Don't start." He simply said, his voice a warning. Edna only winked, paying him no attention.

"The last girl he brought here-"

"-I wouldn't do that-" Snape's interruption went unnoticed.

"-Poor thing didn't realize how much Severus could break hearts before it was too late."

"-Edna, I'm warning you."

"Break hearts?" Hermione smiled tightly, looking from Snape - who was now growing red in the face, to Edna who seemed to be enjoying herself.

"Oh yes. You see, dear, Severus here claims he can't dance and wouldn't oblige the young lady's constant requests." Edna patted his back sympathetically and Snape glared at his drink. "Get enough whiskey's in him though, and he can tear up a rug if you know what I mean. That was her problem, she didn't know the secret, did she now? Ah, but it was for the better, wouldn't you say so? This one you have here seems to be enjoying your company much more."

"Don't you have some glasses to clean?" Snape sneered. Hermione smirked, watching a flash of the old Professor come out of him as he stared Edna down. She stepped away and flapped her hands at him.

"Oh alright. I get it, I'll leave. Your food should only be a minute more anyway." Edna turned and left, Hermione was smiling questioningly at Snape. He tapped his fingers against his glass before picking it up and slamming the liquid down. He adjusted in his chair awkwardly under her stare before finding something really interesting about the table between them. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at his discomfiture.

"So, who's the girl?" Hermione asked in a sing-song voice, teasing him. His eyes flashed at her, softening when he saw she was grinning from ear to ear in jest, then went hard again when he noticed she was also waiting for an answer.

"No one of consequence that concerns you." He purred. "And you'd do good to keep your interests out of it."

"Is it anyone I know?" Hermione asked, teasing him once more. "And do you really dance, or is she just pulling my leg."

"No, no one you know." Snape said, leaving the dancing out of it. "We're going to have to send an owl to Potter. He went back to Paris, you know, to find that husband of yours and figure out what's going on."

Hermione studied him for a minute before falling back into the booth.

"I'm not sure what he'll find. Ron had gone out a few times without me, but never told me anything of what happened or where he went."

"As I understand it, when Potter last met with him, Weasley acted like he had never met him before. And from what you've said about him not wanting the two of you in the same vicinity, add that with Potter's accounts, I have reason to believe whatever spell Weasley's under works more like a confundus charm."

"Ron definitely knows who Harry is. There's no doubt in my mind to that." Hermione stopped speaking as Edna returned dropping two plates full of the biggest burritos she had ever seen in front of them, replaced Snape's whiskey, then left to greet a few other tables that had filled up.

"He could just be acting." Hermione said, her eyes large and carefully regarded the burrito.

"It's only food." Snape reassured her as he cut into his. "Is acting a trait Weasley can pull off? From what I remember, he was just as good as lying as Longbottom's memory had been."

"The size of this thing is intimidating." Hermione turned her plate, deciding where to start cutting. "As far as I'm concerned, when Ron has his mind set on something, his acting skills can become rather competent." She paused long enough to take a bite, continuing as she chewed her food. "When they'd fight at school, for instance, Ron would want to drop the act as soon as it started, but his pride made him continue the charade."

Snape huffed, eating in silence. Hermione had continued on, recounting almost word for word everything that the files he had read over in the past couple of days had said. He had noticed nothing out of the ordinary as she spoke, and they both agreed whatever it was that had taken over, had to be the work of the group from the ones not yet under lock and key. Had Hermione not needed to hide away, it would have been easier for them to obtain further information and even gain more assistance with help from the department. Seeing as her family had been targeted, bringing in new people was a risk they decided on not taking. Conversing on the matter fizzled out when Snape had urged her in trying the drink she had yet to touch. Tentatively, she had tried it. A kind of strawberry-lime flavor had coated her mouth and she soon forgot about her food.

"Just drink it slow. Knowing Edna, she'll have tried adding twice the alcohol to get you liquored up."

"Liquored up for what?" Hermione asked, noting that the drink had been void of any bite or aftertaste of alcohol, though she could feel the liquid hitting her, warming her veins quickly and put her in a more relaxed-aware state than when she had arrived.

"She's been quite persistent in hooking me up."

"Huh? Oh!" Hermione smiled again, the earlier conversation replacing that of business had snuck up again, and she hesitated before saying "to be honest, I don't need to be liquored up." Watching Snape carefully - her last advance had been rejected after all, she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding when the corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

"Why?" He asked.

"Why what?" Hermione asked in return. Snape traced the rim of his glass and shifted his shoulders, drawing an ankle up to rest on his knee, and cleared his throat as he fought through her stare.

"Why me? Why not Potter, or someone you've known for longer?" Considering this himself, he continued on before Hermione could speak. "Besides the fact that I have provided a safe haven, gained your trust, your actions baffle me."

"You really underestimate your appeal, don't you?" Hermione said.

"Appeal?" Snape raised an eyebrow. "I am the same man I had been ten years ago and my 'appeal' to you then was just that slimy old git that taught you potions."

"I do beg your pardon, but ten years ago I thought you were fighting on the wrong side, out to kill Harry and the rest of us."

"I'm still a dark wizard. Just because I vowed my life to protecting Potter doesn't mean I'm the changed person you believe me to be."

"I never said you came into the light. You have every right to be a dark wizard. It doesn't mean your appeal is any less." She sipped from her straw and watched Snape carefully. "Why do you have a problem accepting affection?"

"I don't have a problem with it. I just don't have time for the silly games that come with it."

"You? Don't have time?" Hermione giggled inwardly. "I find that hard to believe. Surely you don't slave over your cauldron all day long. Don't you ever get lonely? Don't you ever want someone to talk to?"

With Snape's eyes downcast on his drink, Hermione thought she had been too harsh and backed off. She had meant it, though she didn't mean for it to come out so straight forward. Not having time sounded like an excuse, especially for Snape who had all but retired, leaving him with whole days of freedom.

"You appeal to me not only because you pulled me out of a bad situation, I am well aware that the chance of this is a want...a rebound if you'd think of it that way, yet I find that when I think of it, this makes perfect sense." She placed her drink on the table and leaned forward. "The side I've seen from you in the past couple of days, I know it isn't just a show you're putting on. If you think I'd fall for that, you have highly underestimated me." She sounded sarcastic almost, doubting herself.

"It hasn't been an act." Snape said sharply. "And if you think that's what it is, then I should have grounds to call you a hypocrite." His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward as well. "Like I said, I am very capable of affection, Miss Granger. I have suffered through a broken heart more deeply than you could ever know, and have put my life on the line all for the sake of affection never returned."

"And by the looks of it, you've let it destroy your life." Hermione added in quickly. Snape fell quiet again, but this time was different. She had hit a nerve that centered on truth he didn't want to admit to. The silence was thick between them, and almost as if the whole bar could feel it, music had started to play, helping to turn the moment less tense. The song was slow, and one of Hermione's favorites, an 'oldie' that spoke of blossoming love and as cliché as it seemed, she was bound and determined to break Snape out of denial.

"Have you had enough whiskey?" She asked. Snape looked at her, confused, then realized where she was going with it.

"No." He stated. She smiled slyly, standing.

"Oh, I think you have." She said, reaching him and tugging on his arm. "Come on." She said.

"Hermi-Miss Granger. Please save me some dignity and take your seat."

"Mr. Severus Snape. I'm afraid no amount of sulking is going to save you from having a dance with me." She tugged again on his arm and he pulled back.

"No." He stated, diverting his eyes as she pouted.

"Hold me, hold me, never let me go until you've told me, told me, what I want to know and then just hold me, hold me..." Hermione sang softly to the song, pulling his arm continuously. His eyes flickered between her and his whiskey.

"Do save yourself the embarrassment." He stated, pleaded with her, but she only smiled and tugged some more.

"Not stopping until you dance with me." She sang. "Thrill me! Thrill me! Walk me down the lane where shadows will be! Will be!..." Her voice grew louder as she continued. Having not the best voice and knowing it, she used it to her advantage, letting it grow in volume until she was belting it out.

"You've got to be kidding me." Snape mumbled at the end of one verse. Sighing loudly, even growling a little, he grabbed his whiskey and finished it off before allowing Hermione to lead him to the dance floor.


	15. Chapter 15

"I don't want to go home yet." Hermione said as they left the bar. She had gripped Snape's arm and pulled them to a stop after they walked a few yards away. Snape had his hands in his pockets and smiled softly as she protested their return to the cabin. He had to admit, going home did seem like a dull end to the night, but it was getting late and they really should have headed in.

"I'm afraid there's not many places to go around here." He said, frowning slightly as she pouted. She dropped his arm and took a few steps away, looking up.

"Then let's just go someplace to see the stars."

Snape stepped up next to her, also tipping his head back. The sky was covered with a thick layer of grey clouds, and as if they realized they were being watched, another round of rain had started without warning. Hermione screamed as the rain hit her, grabbed Snape's hand and pulled him to a small gathering of trees that lined the parking lot of the bar. Snape was smiling now as he watched Hermione brush her arms and slick back her hair. Normally he would have been rolling his eyes and throwing in a snide comment comparing her to a cat, but with whiskey in his stomach and a general good feeling from the day, he allowed the smile to make its way out. She caught it and stared at him oddly for a moment.

"I've never seen you wear one of those before." She said, smiling herself, crossing her arms and rested against the tree trunk. Snape's smile shrunk some, but did not disappear.

"I've never had need to show one before." He answered, casting his glance over their surroundings, then back to her.

"It looks good on you." She said. "I hope to see more of it."

Snape swept the smile off his face at that and narrowed his eyes. "That's asking too much, Miss Granger." He said, watching her own smile falter, before he winked, letting his lips rise again in amusement. There was something different about her, something he suddenly saw that had turned her fascinating.

"So you want to see the stars?" Snape asked and Hermione nodded, lifting herself from the tree and grabbed his arm.

"Yes!" She jumped a little bit, losing her balance slightly. Snape reached out and caught her before she could fall; proof of the two red drinks she had finished were challenging her sobriety. "Take me somewhere." She insisted. "Take me to your favorite place with clear skies and warm air."

Snape's eyebrows rose. Never had anyone wished him to take them somewhere, let alone his favorite place, and he had to think for a moment before he could put such a place in his mind. He looked at Hermione, saw her pleading eyes boring into his, silently begging to be taken away from this soggy place and couldn't find it in him to resist. Taking her arms, he thought of his place and left the bar behind.

Hermione could hear the gentle crashing of waves and could smell salty air before they even stopped the dizzying swirl of apparation. She could feel his arms holding her firmly, and could feel the solid of ground beneath her feet, and when everything settled down, she took it all in. They were on a platform that sat high above the ground. She could see the moon reflecting on the ocean that spread in front of them, sparkling under the sky that had been sprinkled with more stars than she had ever seen. She had felt like her breath had been sucked right out of her. When she could tear her eyes away from the ocean, she turned, seeing that behind them was a glass wall.

"Where are we?" She asked finally. Snape was silent for a moment, taking in the scenery before breathing in a large breath.

"A lighthouse that hasn't been working for quite a few years." He said, not daring to raise his voice above a whisper. He looked down, noticing that she had been gripping his chest with her hands and was looking at him. A twinge of something unfamiliar leapt in his stomach when their eyes met, and he looked away, glancing out among the water to where the sky met it, the Stars melting into the ocean. Before long her head was resting on his chest, causing him to freeze, to grow stiff. She seemed not to notice, and if she did, did not seem to question him.

"How did you find this place?" She asked. Snape didn't speak. He fought with making a story up, wondering if she could even handle the truth. She seemed to sense his hesitancy.

"Did it have something to do with Voldemort?"

The ease in which she said that name still astounded him. He swallowed.

"Yes." He said. "The owner of the lighthouse had been Muggle-born. When the Dark Lord had requested use of the house, he refused and we were sent to abolish him."

"And after, did you have use for the house?"

"Me?" Snape asked. "You say that as if it was my idea." Shaking his head, he took another large breath. "No. It was left to rot and wither away. I found myself returning over the years though, being quiet and solitary."

"It's peaceful." Hermione said, pushing away from his arms and stepped to the railing. She leaned over, looking down to the bottom. Snape remained standing where he was, watching her. He had never seen her like this before, albeit he had never been around her much, but it was beyond that. He had never seen how bright she had been. Her intelligence was only known to him from having taught her, and the points she had brought up that night had been able to shut him down on a few occasions. He had never seen her vulnerable side, that guard she struggled to keep up when he'd catch her unexpectedly, or the tenderness that seemed to come effortlessly and always present. She had been Lily, but at the same time, the complete opposite. He had felt no feelings toward the woman for as long as he had known her, but he was all the same drawn to her since she had been forced upon him. It was getting harder and harder for him to refuse the slight attraction that had begun to rise.

"Beautiful." She said. Snape agreed.

Though the place had held beauty on its own, watching Hermione stand there, her mind far away from her problems, added a whole level of beauty he had never experienced before. Maybe it was the whiskey that had changed his way of thinking about her, but he refused to let himself think that it was on his own accord. Stepping forward (he forced himself to believe that his feet were not acting in his best interests, that they had grown a mind of their own and were leading him) he stood right behind Hermione. His arms that encircled her were under some kind of witchcraft and definitely not something that he would have done if he had half the nerve to stop it.

Hermione, feeling his arms wrapping around her had tensed out of confusion, then relaxed. She turned to face him. They stood there, the waves crashing below them, the ocean breeze warming them and time seemed to stop as Snape leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

...

Harry reclined on the bed, the Wizard Wireless Network playing in the background as he read through the most recent Daily Prophet he could find. Life outside of the problem he was currently facing seemed to go on carelessly. It angered him, not being able to find news of their predicament happening to anyone else, or even finding a crime had happened that would lead into obtaining more information. It didn't help that he was cooped up in a stuffy hotel room in the middle of a town he couldn't see. Returning to Paris, Harry expected it to be a simple trip. He'd talk with Ron, find out all he could and even try to 'befriend' him to see if he'd lead on to anything that could help solve the issue. Since he arrived, finding Ron had not been easy. He was still in the hotel, Harry had found that out by booking a room for himself and sneaking a look at the registry when the concierge was getting his key. The bad part was his room had been two floors lower and on the other side of the building. He quickly knew that sitting in the lobby and waiting would single him out and alert others to something suspicious going on, so he had rigged up a wire that would notify him of anyone entering or leaving Ron's room via a vibrating and flashing red light from a small black box he had put on the top of his nightstand. It had not gone off, and being there almost a day was beginning to try his patience.

He was hungry, and not sure he wanted to trust room service. Their prices were outrageous, and if the kitchen was in as bad a shape as the rest of the building, the wonder of the quality of their food haunted him. Grabbing the small black box and his jacket, he left the room and traveled down the stairway, all intentions on finding the nearest take out service and coming straight back.

"Mr. Potter?" The concierge held a hand up, calling to obtain his attention. Harry approached, seeing he was being handed a piece of parchment.

"An owl has arrived for you."

"Thanks." Harry said, taking the parchment and leaving. He stuffed the note into his pocket to read later.

Walking down the main street, he had found there were dozens of places to choose from, which didn't help seeing as he was already hungry and everything sounded delicious. Settling on some good old fashioned Chinese, no steak out was complete without it. he had told himself he'd indulge in a true Paris meal after he had found Ron and had come to some sort of conclusion and time to enjoy it. His pocket in which he had stuffed the small black box had not made so much as a quiver and he was beginning to think it had broken. He had grabbed the device from a storage closet at the Ministry before coming to Paris and its box had been dusty. There was a good chance the device didn't even work, but Harry had been willing to take that chance.

With food in hand, he began to make his way back to the hotel. He entered the front door, walked past the front desk, and entered the elevator. Just as the doors were closing, he caught a glimpse of Ron's unmistakable red hair entering the front door. The doors closed, and cut off his view. He quickly pressed the button for the nearest floor, and pressed through the doors before they were even open fully. He hurried to the stairwell, and hurried down the stairs just in time to see Ron conversing with the concierge. He didn't appear too happy, and looked worse for the wear. His clothes were soiled and hung off his body; he had lost weight. His skin had gone a shade darker, almost as if he hadn't bathed in days. His hair, still fiery red, but greasy and in desperate need of a trim. Harry lingered at the base of the stairs, keeping out of sight as much as possible, and when Ron growled, turning over stacks of papers on the desk, storming back out the entrance, Harry knew he had to follow. He grabbed the nearest bell boy he could find, pressed his food into his hands and asked him to take it to his room before taking off after Ron.

Ron was moving, his hands were shoved in his pockets, and his back was hunched so far over, from Harry's perspective it appeared he no longer had a head. Harry lingered a few feet behind, letting their distance grow as Ron dodged onto a trail that led into a vast amount of trees. They followed the windy trail for a while until it broke upon a small house. Ron appeared out of place as he stomped up the front steps and entered through the door.

The house appeared to be well taken care of. The paint was not old, the vegetation and landscape that surrounded it had been freshly preened and there were no cars in the large, circular driveway. Harry hid himself in a large bush as more voices could be heard from the trees, speaking a different language that Harry could not understand. They passed his hiding spot and Harry held his breath, watching two men, old but strong, enter through the front door. Waiting a few minutes, Harry stepped out of his hiding spot and approached the house. He snuck his way along a wall, and peered into a window that was just accessible if he stood on his toes. Though the window was grimy, he could just make out a group of people sitting in a circle. There was something glowing in the center of them, something small and bright. Harry could guess it had been an animal and judging by the way it moved, some kind of cat.


	16. Chapter 16

In a daring move, Harry had picked away some dirt from the corner of the window and could see more clearly that he had been looking into a living room. He counted five people, recognizing the two he had seen walk by him, and another three he couldn't quite see due to their backs being turned to him and dark robes being pulled up over their heads. He couldn't find Ron and wondered if he had even been in the room at all. Their voices were muffled, though he could hear them talking; deep and gruff, it was easy to tell that they weren't happy, and Harry could only guess that it had something to do with Hermione. Whatever it was he saw glowing had left the room, but Harry had no time to look for it as one of the cloaked individuals turned and approached the window. Harry pressed himself down, squeezing against the house as tightly as possible, hoping he hadn't been seen. He didn't have to hide long as voices became clear once more. They were leaving the house. In a moment of panic, Harry had considered staying right where he was and hoping on pure luck they wouldn't see him, but knowing very well all it would take was someone to glance at the side he was on to be spotted.

As slowly, yet as quickly as he possibly could, Harry moved hugging tight to the wall, and found a small pile of firewood to hide behind. Over the tops of the logs, he was able to see the dark robes disappear into the trees and scatter. Ron had yet to be seen and Harry was not going to leave until he could find him. Harry thought, thinking that he could knock on the door and claim he had lost his way. Maybe Ron would even answer the door. Thinking more on that, he soon became aware of how stupid that would be, especially since no one knew where he was, and if it was a bad situation he was walking into, there'd be no way he could be positive he'd escape. His mind ran to Snape, knowing very well he'd have told him to wait, to watch and see what happens.

He didn't have to wait too long, as peering through another window - this one cleaner than the last - Harry could see Ron sitting in a chair. He was rigid and looked quite uncomfortable. One of the robed people was sitting behind a thick desk. Harry could hear nothing at this window either, though it appeared something was being said. Ron would nod, or shake his head every so often. The appearance of a house elf didn't seem to startle him, but rather, seemed to be welcomed. Harry watched as the house elf spoke to Ron, and Ron nodded, rising from his seat and walking out of the room. Harry could hear the front door slam shut seconds later and hurried around the house, seeing Ron walking back down the path and Harry let him get a good start before he followed.

Ron had gone nowhere else besides back to the hotel. The small black box in his pocket buzzed shortly after he watched Ron enter the building and was glad to see it had worked. He went up to his room which smelled heavily of fried rice, and knelt down in front of the fireplace. Seeing the inside of Snape's house dark and desolate, he called out a few times and waited. There was no answer. Worring, Harry pulled his head out of the flames and sat on his bed. His hands patted his pockets and found the note the concierge had handed him, recognizing Snape's seal, he opened it.

'He came and nearly destroyed her. I've taken her to a safe place, converse in owls - no magic!

S.'

Taking a piece of parchment, Harry wrote a note and left to find an owl.

...

Hermione had never felt such things, granted Ron had been the only one to show her love and had nothing to compare it with. Her hand rested on Snape's bare chest, his soft skin was warm under her fingers, her ear pressed to the slow and steady rhythm of his heart. She found it hard to sleep, something inside of her had been awoken, and there was no way sleep would stay easily. Her skin, still tingling with the ghost of his lips refused to let the feeling fade. Every smooth curve of her body prickled where he had grazed those lips and she didn't want the feeling to go away. The path his fingers had made up and down her delicate form would forever be stored in the front of her memory; something she could never forget no matter how hard she tried. Funny, she thought, how Ron had touched her in the same places, in the same exact ways, yet she could not bring to mind how it had felt. Not only because of what he had become, but even before then when she thought she knew him, attempting to stir that memory inside had been blank, almost like it had never happened. She shivered returning her thoughts to the Professor sleeping beneath her. The hand he had lazily lifted to her bare shoulder somewhere within his slumber, sending electricity through her. Not daring to move, scared that this had all been a dream, she let that electricity tease her, a steady torture of feeling him feeling her. Severus had been rough, something Hermione had not expected from such a man. He had carried a roughness, an air of tempestuous exigency that begged pain and restraint from those who knew him, but had shown her nothing but compassion.

She would have been just as satisfied to struggle against any restrictions he set fourth, to willingly obey any command or request he should whisper to her soul, but instead, showed nothing but a composed and soft side she was sure not many women got to see...if any at all.

The sweet nothings he had spoken into her ear still remained as if he had just spoken them. He had spoken of her beauty, of her eyes that he could fall into, of her hair that was so soft and of her heart which had been larger than any he knew of. He had gotten her to accept him without more than a few words, but words that burned into her heart, another thing she realized Ron had never done. Throughout the times she and Ron were intimate, she had to ask of him to tell her things, Severus had done that on his own. She watched his sleeping eyes as they darted back and forth under his eyelids and hoped he was dreaming of her. She'd seen the longing in his eyes, the way they took her in and never once left her, of how their caustic and judging nature gave way to lenity and attention. He had looked at her in the way she caught him in his potions. The same passion and intensity had been shown, making her realize that there were something things he truly did care about, even bringing her to realize she might just be one of them. The way he took her had been everything she dreamed it would. While Ron was a lover and had often made her think of no one else, Severus had made the world disappear and for those few moments, it had only just been the two of them.

Upon waking and seeing Hermione next to him, Severus's first thought had been they had made a mistake, a large one, and he hoped she wouldn't wake up when he moved to sit up on the edge of the bed. He couldn't look at her for fear that he'd be pulled back into the moment of weakness he had shown. Initiating the kiss last night had taken them into a moment greater than he could remember, and during that time, he felt alive again, like he had a purpose for living that didn't deal with Lily, or Harry, and had found himself wishing it would remain forever. Never had he shown a woman the side he had shown then, and only had because he felt Hermione had needed to see that she was wanted. Knowing that she had stayed beside him the whole night had scared him, usually any woman he brought to his bed would leave, never to be seen again. Not one of them remained or cared enough to say goodbye. He knew that Hermione had taken comfort in sleeping next to him, but didn't their act bring about a new level? Why didn't she find him repulsive like the others did and go find another place to sleep? Looking over his shoulder at her as she slept, that feeling lurched in his chest again. She had been so beautiful, so perfect. The way his body fit with hers was almost as if they had been made to fit, the way their breath had meshed together, combining in what little space they had between them, and their heartbeats matched one another, he was scared they'd be turned into one body through the process. It must have been the whiskey. The whiskey and the stars. He cursed the stars. If it hadn't of been for that, none of this would have happened, and he would still have the walls he had spent years building up intact, not beginning to crumble like they were the longer he looked at her. Hermione was dangerous, especially so after last night. She had made her way through his wall and he had a feeling there was no getting her out.

He turned back around, looking at the window in front of him, seeing the sun shining, the trees tops swaying in a gentle breeze and the birds flittering about, and as much as he wanted to join them, he knew he would have to collect himself again and not set himself up for disappointment.

The bed shifted, she had kissed his shoulder. Her arms wrapped around his chest and he wanted to feel them, he wanted to lift a hand to them and caress that silky skin, with more than just his fingertips, but knowing this was just a moment that would flicker out, he did nothing.

A/N: reached 40k words (including what little I have written of Even in Death) and felt like celebrating by posting another chapter! 13 days until I'll officially post my win, but the remaining 10k words will easily be surpassed by then. Things are getting exciting in what I have written and I'm excited to share that with you all! Thanks for the reviews/favorites/votes/and follows!


	17. Chapter 17

Harry had written asking for permission to raid Snape's personal stock of potions as making some Polyjuice would have taken far too long in this instance. The first day of waiting for a reply had passed by slowly, a little two slowly for his liking, and not being able to stand the wait any longer, he had decided to go ahead and help himself with or without permission. He'd act now and explain later, sure that if Snape's head was in the right place, he'd fully understand and forgive him. Harry didn't even wonder if Polyjuice Potion was the kind of potion Snape would keep on stock until he arrived, stepping into the dark and chilly living room and could only hope. He entered Snape's laboratory and located the large cabinet and opened it to find himself already in awe of the vials and bottles that took up nearly all the space; the bottom shelf was the only shelf that still had room. Scanning over the potions, there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to their placement, and sucked in a breath, deciding to start at the shelf that was at eye level.

Discovering some sleeping draught, he pocketed it knowing it would come in useful, and soon found the Polyjuice when he had reached the shelf at hip-height. Three vials of the mud-like liquid had greeted Harry eagerly as if they were waiting to be found. Taking one, Harry placed it in the pocket that held the sleeping draught, then decided to take another wondering just how strong the effects would last. Knowing Snape's expertise with brewing, there was a good chance he would be turned into Ron for a good twelve hours, but not wanting to be turning back into Harry before it was time, a second vial would be welcomed. He closed the doors of the cabinet and returned to the floo.

The next part of his plan was also excruciatingly long. Taking a hair from Ron would not be easy, he didn't expect it to be, and had come to plan that he'd start a fight with him somehow, grab a handful of hair, and pray to Merlin that he'd be left with some bounty. If that didn't work, he'd need to come up with a way to get close to him somehow, close enough to pluck a hair from his head without his knowing about it, or finding him out. He had hoped that the wait would be short lived, and for the first half an hour, sat in the lobby of the hotel with his eyes plastered to the elevator and stairwell. Before long, a magazine had caught his attention, and though it was in French, the pictures were enough to keep his mind entertained, so much so, that when Ron had finally appeared, Harry had nearly missed him. If it hadn't of been for the concierge wishing him a good day, he would have been too engrossed in the magazine to notice him walk by. Harry had grabbed his invisibility cloak and had placed it next to him on the seat when he first sat down, but soon had it folded inside out so it wasn't visible, and tucked it carefully under the chair he was sitting on. If all went well, he would have the hair and return to the hotel before Ron just in time to grab the cloak and wait outside of his door for him to enter and sneak in behind him. Harry would need him detained for a while, at least long enough to take over Ron's looks and go back to the house, to get inside and find out what was going on. It was either detaining him by force, or slipping something into a drink that would render him unconscious he had decided on, and for both of their sakes, the draught seemed the easier way to go.

Harry slipped out the front door, keeping a close eye on Ron as he followed the path into town, and kept a few steps behind him along the way. He was waiting for a break in the people around them as he didn't want to draw any attention and the further into town they got, the harder that moment seemed to come by. It wasn't until Ron had gone into a small coffee shop did Harry decide to put his plan into action. The coffee shop was small, and with only a handful of customers sitting inside, Harry thought it the best time to take action. He stepped up in line behind Ron, and only when he turned around did Harry act like he noticed him.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed, feigning his excitement. Seeing the freckled face churned his blood and Harry had to concentrate on breathing to keep up his charade. It would have been easy enough to out and punch him right then, but would have a hard time explaining it if his plan went awry. Ron smiled uncomfortably and gave him a nod, attempting to step past him. Harry grabbed onto one of his shoulders to stop him.

"I didn't think you'd still be in town." Harry said and Ron seemed to recollect their last meeting.

"Oh, yeah, well..." Ron shrugged, at a loss for words, Harry smiled as gently as he could.

"Have you been keeping busy on your..." His faded off as he wasn't sure why Ron was there. The only thing he would mention upon their last meeting was it was a job and nothing more. Ron gave a nod.

"Yes, I have. Still trudging along."

"Well that's great." He turned to the barista. "A latte please." Then back to Ron. "What do you have planned? I was thinking it would be great to sit and talk for a bit. I've been out here alone for days with no one to talk to. Wouldn't mind some company."

"Well I..."

"I can understand if you can't." Harry said, releasing his grip on his shoulder before it could get any tighter.

"I actually had a meeting later, but I guess I have a few moments to spare." Ron said finally, grabbing his drink as his name was called.

"Great." Harry said. "I'd love to hear how your wife is doing." Harry stated, swallowing the anger that rose in him. Ron's forehead creased at Harry before realization had taken over. The mention of his wife must have triggered a memory, one that wasn't good, as his look became convicting and Harry was suddenly pulled to him. Ron's fist had grabbed his shirt and tugged him forward.

"You should know." He spat. "You've run off with her, haven't you? Stolen her from me just like you have everything else."

Harry grinned, flashing a dangerous look back to his old friend as his emotions changed. It was strange how one minute Ron acted like he didn't know him, but bring up Hermione, and all of a sudden, it was there. Memory and all. Curious. Very curious.

"I didn't steal her, mate." Harry said. "She came willingly."

"I will fight to the death for her." Ron whispered dangerously.

"Prove it." Harry answered, readying himself for the blows that were soon to follow. As Ron's nose wrinkled, he balled a fist that raised behind his head, hovered for a moment, then flew forward. It connected with Harry's jaw, sending pain through his neck. It was what he was waiting for, for Ron to make the first move so he didn't look like the bad guy and giving him a reason to fight back. Harry ignored the stinging pain, his left hand dipped under the hand holding his shirt, pushing it back and out of the way, before letting his right fist fly. It connected with Ron's ear, causing the man to fall to his knees, and bring both hands up to his ear. A cheap shot, maybe, but put him into a perfect position. Harry reached out, grabbed his hair with a few fingers, and pulled. Ron let out a howl, dropping his hands and rushed Harry, hugging his legs and knocking him backward.

Harry wrapped his arms around Ron, kicking his legs to turn him over and straddled him, taking another punch at his face. Ron had blocked it, pushing a hand up and into Harry's jaw, striking the bruising that had started and Harry yelped. Waving his hand to knock Ron's out of the way, he felt air, then noticed he had been pulled backward and off of Ron. Behind him, two strong men were holding him under the armpits. Ron scuttled backwards, rising to his feet, then ran forward, moving to punch his stomach. One of the men holding Harry had stepped between them, grabbing Ron's wrist just inches from Harry, and twisted his arm.

"I must insist the two of you leave the premise." A man with a bald head and a moustache had appeared from a back room. He was wearing a white apron and wiping his hands with a terry cloth. "No fighting in my store. I don't want you to return. Ever." His eyes bore into both Ron and Harry. Harry shrugged off the hands holding him, adjusted his shirt and gave Ron one more glare, his nostrils flaring in anger as he turned and left without further prompting. He waited until the end of the block to run, making his way back to the hotel, grabbed his cloak from under the seat, and waited on the third floor while admiring the few hairs he had managed to pull from Ron's head. They glowed red against his palm, almost as red as his knuckles, but he didn't mind. The punch had felt right, justified, and it was only a matter of not doing it again when Ron would show up inches away from him.

When Ron had shown up, Harry had taken to sitting on the floor. He was nearly asleep and if it hadn't of been for Ron's roughness in opening the door, would have probably missed him. He stood up quickly, just in time to take a slip of paper and shove it between the door jamb and the lock, preventing the door from locking him out. He pushed on the door gently, moving it open as slowly as possible just enough to hear what was happening on the other side. There was a cough the seemed to echo, a familiar sign that he had been in the bathroom, and Harry took advantage of this. Pushing the door open enough so he could sneak through, he quickly shut it behind him and walked into his room.

Dirty, plates stacked on the table surfaces, clothes strewn over chair backs and on the floor, it appeared as though he had opted out of the maid service altogether. He found a beer bottle sitting on the nightstand near his bed and lifted it. It was cold, still full. Not wasting time to look any further, he pulled the sleeping draught from his pocket, and dumped its contents into the bottle, gave it a swirl, and backed himself to stand by the window.

Ron had come out of the bathroom with seconds to spare, and sat on his bed, removing his shoes and socks. Harry concentrated on breathing slowly even though his heart had been beating a hundred miles an hour. He had to watch Ron flip through pages of a magazine before he rose, opening the mini-fridge, and pulled out a box of food. He placed it in a microwave, set the time and returned to the bed. Harry grew anxious, watching Ron further flip through the magazine while his food warmed, and retrieved it, eating a few good bites out of it. Then, his waiting was quenched. Ron had taken the beer bottle, raised it to his lips, and drank thirstily. Watching him carefully, Ron let out a large burp, readied a fork for another bite, and passed out, falling to the side and snored like there was no tomorrow. Silently, Harry walked past the bed, and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. He made his way up to his room and didn't remove the protection of his invisibility cloak until he was safe behind his own door, pulled the Polyjuice vial from his pocket, threw in the hairs and watched as the liquid inside changed from a muddy brown into a greyish black before it finished its color change at a putrid green shade. It looked sickly, and for a second Harry thought twice about swallowing such a vile color. Poison, Harry was sure of it, and before his mind could run away with his thoughts of instant death, tipped the contents into his mouth and swallowed.

Polyjuice was an interesting feeling once it began to change. The skin bubbled over the whole body, bones shrunk and grew in places, sending painful contractions in limbs and joints. The ears popped as they acclimated to the new body, and Harry's eyesight soon blurred as he looked through his glasses. Removing them immediately, they did nothing to help with the sour and painful feeling that rose in his stomach. The potion had tasted off, a perfect example of the color, and just when he thought he was about to vomit, everything stopped. He went to the bathroom, flicking the light on and admired his new face in the mirror. Harry had found it easy to bring a smile to Ron's face, something he hadn't seen for a while. Lifting his chin, running his fingers over it, it was quite evident Ron had not shaved in weeks, his hair was just as greasy and unkempt, but that was the least of his worries. He had to get back to the house and find out what was going on.

A/N: Sorry for the wait! Life got busy, blah! Got to some wifi today though so I have a few chapters ready to go that should hold all of us for a few days at least =^^=. Thank you for all your reviews and votes, they're awesome motivation to keep writing!


	18. Chapter 18

Arriving at the house, he opened the door and was swiftly greeted by two men who grabbed either arm. He had not expected it and nearly gave himself away when the urge to fight them off had taken him. He only tensed for a minute, before realizing they weren't there to hurt him, and would have expected Ron to follow their command, and allowed them to force him into a room with a fireplace and a matching set of overstuffed chairs and couches done in maroon velvet and aged white wood. He didn't say a word, wondering if Ron had been expected to speak at all. Seeing as his silence was welcomed, he was more than happy to be remain that way.

He got to see the faces of the two men that grabbed him. They were dressed rather shabbily, looking as if their clothes had been picked out of a hand-me-down pile at the local thrift shop, or taken from a dumpster. They sure smelled of it too, noticing a pungent body odor was present when they were close. They had unshaved faces, burly beards taking over most of their features, and thick eyebrows that grew wildly, their eyes that seemed to burn holes through all the hair were just as wild, ravenous, and blood-thirsty. Harry tried to remain oblivious to it all though he found himself quite on edge. A third man joined them, this guy cleaner shaved and more presentable, though his clothes were still soiled and ragged. His teeth made up for the void of hair, poking this way and that, looking as if they wanted to escape his mouth every time it was opened.

"Runnin' on schedule, Dias is on his way, keep that one in here this time, she'll want to speak with him."

Harry bit back the urge to pull his wand at the way the man spat 'him,' and pointed a dirty finger in his face. They took a seat, filling up most of the chairs, and talked amongst themselves, the two that had grabbed him speaking in a language Harry didn't understand, and recognized they were the ones he had hid from on his first visit to the house. Being able to see them clearly now, he did not recognize their faces which meant that they had not been in the courts recently, at least the London Ministry. It always amazed Harry how people so suspicious looking, and so vile seemed to stay out of the system. Listening for any names to be thrown around, he had heard the third one mention Dias, and also knew the name was not any he had dealt with before, and it wasn't until a rough voice had announced his entrance into the room, did Harry feel like he was going to spend the next few hours among strangers. He didn't turn his head, fearing that would be out of character for Ron.

"Twinkle just arrived. Should be down in a moment."

Selwyn, the unmistakable voice of the Death Eater had caused Harry's blood to boil. He gripped the chair he was sitting on and squeezed until his knuckles surely turned white and let his eyes follow the tall and lean man as he sat on the arm of the couch, his hands on his knees. The last time Harry had seen the guy had been at Hogwarts, in the throes of the last battle, but only for a brief moment. Harry had defended himself against a few curses and lost sight of him. He hadn't changed, still ugly, his strong facial features as sharp as his attitude had been, his eyes still dark and menacing. Harry was not scared to be in his presence, but knowing what he was capable of, knew he had to go about this very carefully. Had he slipped up and alerted them to his cover, Selwyn would undoubtedly be the one to strike first. Harry moved his leg, the feeling of his wand from inside his sock pushing against his ankle giving him assurance, almost calming his nerves that rocketed through the ceiling.

Dias had entered, and judging by the anxious demeanor of those around him, was running a little too late for comfort. Selwyn seemed to confirm this as when the short man came around the corner, he was thrust upon the wall, and a few fists had flown into his jaw. Harry winced at the sound of bones breaking, and the slight cry that came from Dias as he collapsed to the ground, holding his mouth. He coughed into his palm and teeth came out, bloody and covered in spit.

"That should learn you in case you want to be late again." Selwyn grinned down on him, laughing as if he had enjoyed it. He reached down, taking a handful of Dias' shirt in his hand, and marched him over to the only open chair, throwing him into it. As Dias landed, a loud crack sounded, and a streak of bright light had entered, fading into a cat. Harry's eyes went wide at this, seeing the cat prance around the room once before settling in front of the fireplace.

Ahem.

Harry had to stifle a groan, pressing his lips together as hard as he could, even biting them as an extra measure to keep them shut. The slight coughing she made, unmistakable and the back of his hand hurt just thinking about the person who had caused it, a woman he would gladly liken to the grime that grew under rubbish bins. Umbridge had been kept in Azkaban since the war ended and one thing was now evident: she had a wand. The cat licked a paw before moving its bright blue Persian eyes to everyone in the room, making sure they were all focused on her.

"Thank you for coming. Let's just jump right into it as I'm not sure how much time we have today. Selwyn, what have you found?"

"They haven't returned in a few days. Nothing is showing up in the lists, but we are working on finding their new location and have a few ideas stored."

"Good. Great. I trust in your capabilities and know this is only a slight hiccup in the plans. Mortimer?"

The man sitting closest to Selwyn nodded ferociously.

"I have gathered the last of the papers-" He dug in a bag at his feet, pulling a stack of white papers from it and held it up. Harry could make out the official seal of the Magical Law Enforcement department on it. His stomach dropped. Papers of that sort, as far as Harry could tell had been early release papers of some kind, were kept under charm, lock and key. There were only a handful of people who knew where and how to get to them.

"Wonderful." The cat said, the voice rising up into shrill tones and Harry had to forcibly keep himself from charging the patronus, from causing it to go away.

"Melaby?" Umbridge's voice called to the third man down the line. He had reclined in the sofa, looking just as comfortable and relaxed as if he was at home.

"There was a blip that came through placing them at Hogwarts day before last. Unfortunately that Longbottom kid failed to stop them from exiting and they got away."

Harry's eyes widened before he could stop them from doing so. Snape and Hermione had been at Hogwarts? Neville was in on this too? The wheels were moving so fast in his head trying to come to a conclusion, trying to piece everything together that when Selwyn had smacked him, did he realize he was being spoken to.

"Pay attention, swine." Selwyn said, placing a hand on his head and pointed it at the cat who the hearth and jumped on his lap. Sniffing at his face, those blue eyes bore into his green-err-brown. He was caught. He knew it. He could feel it and forced himself to release the chair, ready to grab for his wand. To his surprise, the cat jumped off of him and sauntered back to the hearth.

"Maybe he's been under too long?" She asked. Selwyn shook his head.

"There is no length of time a house elf's magic becomes a danger to a person. The way I see it, the ginger's disposable. We can just as easily get another."

"That is not necessary, Weasley's the closest we have to Granger, and a perfect way to leverage Potter." The cat turned back to him, the tail flicking. "I ask again. Do you know of any place she could have gone to?"

Harry shook his head. Selwyn smacked him.

"Answer her verbally when she speaks to you."

"N-no." Harry coughed, his voice stuck in his throat. "No, ma'am."

"In that case, I fear we will just have to wait until they're found." The cat had paused in walking, looking behind itself, then back at the group. "Meeting adjourned. Someone's coming." And disappeared just as quickly as it came. Selwyn sighed, turning to the group and clapped his hands.

"We've got our orders. Keep looking, any sign of life, so much as a shadow of their presence and you will report to me. Twinkle!"

A house elf entered, he was old and had a pretty good hunch on his back, but the way he moved suggested he was still agile and could take on even Selwyn.

"Yes, sir?" It asked as it hobbled into the room.

"Maybe our dear Granger needs an incentive to show up. Return to the Burrow, strengthen your curse."

"Of course, sir. Right away." The house elf raised a hand, snapped his fingers, and left in a puff of smoke. Harry's breathing was labored, he felt his cheeks blushing and chest tightening. The house elf had placed a curse on the Burrow?

"Melaby, go find McGonagall and Longbottom. See what she has found, and give Longbottom what he deserves for failing."

"Yes." Melaby stood, leaving the room right away. Harry narrowed his eyes as he left, battling himself now to stay seated. The thought of one of them going after McGonagall made him hate the group even more. And Neville, someone Harry did not expect to be brought into this, but knew didn't deserve it at all. Selwyn stopped in front of him and Harry drew his eyes up to meet his.

"Disgusting. Why we couldn't do this without you, and I assure you we very well could, is beyond me. Would have been easier to just kidnap the girl and have her sign for her freedom, but Dolores had to insist getting everyone involved, turning it into a group 'game.' Get your pathetic Muggle-loving ass out of here before I make a mistake."

Harry sat a minute longer, only jumping when Selwyn had raised his hand, and dodged another smack. Heading for the door, he didn't stop until he was back at the hotel, safe in his own room.

...

A drenched owl peered through the window next to the front door looking quite comical as its feathers stuck up this way and that, matting together under its beak. It did not look happy and as soon as Snape opened the window, it flew in settling next to the fireplace before extending a leg. The parchment tied to it had been just as wet as the owl. Snape pointed his wand at the owl, dried it and received an affectionate nibble from it before it flew off out the window, then dried the paper. Unrolling it, most of the scribble had been saved, the last few words blotching from being wet.

"He sent an owl!" Snape yelled, hoping Hermione could hear him, and moved to sit on the couch. Hermione appeared a second later, sitting next to Snape and pulled an arm around her shoulder. He tried bringing it back, but she gripped onto it.

"Read it to me?" She asked, blinking her eyes a few times and Snape smirked.

"Snape and Hermione. Greetings from Paris, keeping an eye on Ron, I have found a few interesting things. Might you have some polyjuice in stock? HP."

"Good to hear he's finding something." Hermione said, letting her fingers trace Snape's arm slightly.

"Mmm." He agreed, leaning forward to place the letter on the coffee table, and also as a way to remove Hermione from his arms. He stood, going to the kitchen, and poured himself a cup of coffee. Hermione followed.

"What's wrong?" She asked, stopping him as he tried walking by her. Snape took a drink from the coffee mug, keeping eye contact with her.

"The other night-" He started, and she groaned.

"Here it comes." Her eyes rolled and he stepped by her, she turned, following him as he sat down at the kitchen table. She continued to stand.

"-I'm afraid we both just misjudged the situation." He said, wondering if that was better than just outright calling it a mistake, which was something he wouldn't consider it to have been anyway. Mistake was too harsh a word, too regrettable and that was furthest from the truth.

"You're going to blame the alcohol, aren't you?" Hermione asked. Surprisingly she didn't sound angry, though there was certain sadness. Snape simply looked at her, swallowing more coffee in an attempt to take his mouth out of commission, and therefore forgoing his turn to speak. Hermione shoved a hand into her hair and sat in the chair next to him. She took one of his hands into hers.

"I think it's pretty evident of how I feel about you. Alcohol or not."

"That's just fine and all..." Severus dropped her hand. "But what about when this is finished, when everything is sorted out?"

"Well it isn't."

"It's going to be." Rubbing a hand over his face, he pushed air through his fingers. "I'm sorry Miss Granger, but this...that...whatever it was is only making the matter at hand worse."

Hermione scoffed. Her mouth opened, and she let out a soundless laugh.

"Do you talk to all of your girls this way?" She asked, taking the defensive. "Because if you do, it's no wonder why you're single." She crossed her arms. Then her legs. When Snape tried to speak, she cut him off. "All I wanted, all I want, is a little bit of sympathy, someone to assure me that the past eight years I've been married hasn't been a mistake and the future looks bright. Who's to say this will be fixed anyway. God. You're an insensitive jerk, you know that?" She stood, Snape watched with eyebrows raised as her face screwed up and she walked off. He squeezed his eyes shut and made a sound deep from within his throat that sounded somewhere between a squeak and a grumble before following her.

"You're not the only one going through the need for sympathy." He said the moment he saw her standing by the window. She had her back turned and only tilted her head when she heard him. "I, too, am curious and have a need for acceptance, but I'm afraid my one moment of weakness has led you on." Snape was standing beside her now, his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet, a few strands of his hair falling into his face but he didn't care enough to brush them back. "I just don't want either of us to forget what we're doing here."

Hermione took in his words, knowing where he was coming from, but all she could see is a future where Ron would not change, where she would be fearing for the rest of her life and not wanting that. Turning to Snape, she watched him silently, letting the seconds tick by until he felt her eyes upon him and turned his head slightly to look at her. She pushed the strands of hair that covered his face behind his ear, letting her thumb graze across his cheek.

"I'm not forgetting." She spoke softly, and his face dropped, eyes closed. "But I can't help wondering if Ron wasn't in the picture at all how much it would change this."

Snape brought his head up, confused.

"If it wasn't for Ron we wouldn't have found our self in this position, mind you. I'd still be that solitary man slaving over a cauldron and you'd still be that lawyer defending the names of all the good people in the world."

"I mean, if he wasn't fixable." She bit her lip. "If Ron had been abusive on his own accord, and this still happened, would that change your views on the situation at all?"

"That's just a pipe dream, I'm afraid."

Hermione dropped her hand and let it hang awkwardly at her side. Her head shook slowly out of amazement.

"Unbelievable." She said, laughing silently again. "Here I am throwing myself at you, giving you a reason to fight for me, and you still have thick armor built up."

"That thick armor has gotten me to where I am today." Snape said lowly. "I just don't want either of us to be set up for heartbreak and do not think it a wise time to endeavor in such things. When the time comes and Ron has been returned to normal, your husband, Mrs. Weasley-" Snape emphasized the 'Weasley' "-I do not want a guilty conscience for either of us."

"Then let's not fix him and give us a try?" Hermione suggested, stepping closer to Snape and wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands moved to her arms, attempted to pull them down, but as she pulled him into a kiss, he faltered. She was making this harder to do and felt all the sense he had built up slipping away the longer the kiss continued. Heated, he kissed her back, and just as he knew she had invaded his walls again, let himself revel in the passion.

A/N: I'm up to almost 47k words including this, that, and the other stories I've been working on! My 50K goal for this camp nano is so close I can taste it and I have all of you to thank for helping me keep motivated by all the reviews, favorites and votes! I'm sure I'm closer, just haven't had the time to move what's in my phone into the word program I'm keeping track of anything, but that's where I stand as of now. I'm excited to get this one finished so I can delve right in to the other stories I have planned for all of you! Hope you enjoyed! Xx


	19. Chapter 19

'Umbridge is heading this, using her patronus to converse with a group of people, I believe they're Snatchers. Selwyn is one of them. They said they were going to get information from McGonagall. Also heard the Burrow has been placed under a curse by a house elf. -HP'

The note was short and simple, and Harry only hoped it would reach Snape and Hermione in time before too much could happen. The polyjuice had not worn off yet, and going to the owl room inside the hotel was not exactly safe for him while he looked like Ron. He didn't want any run-in's with people that would stop to talk, so he called up for one. The owl arrived shortly after on the arm of a mousy and thin woman. She was young, but so frail, Harry wondered how she stood the weight of the owl on her arm. The owl had an angry face, narrow eyes, and feathers that stuck up around his beak. It yawned in greeting, raising a leg to transfer to Harry's arm. After Harry had shut the door, the owl had leaped into the air, swooping over to the windowsill and watched Harry carefully as he rolled the note up and fitted it against the leg.

"This is very important." Harry told the owl. "I need you to deliver this as fast as you can." The owl hooted once, and waddled himself around to face the window that Harry raised. As the owl perched on the window, spreading its wings for takeoff, the door burst open. The owl danced around, but could not escape through the window before being hit with a spell that turned him stone solid.

Harry swung around, pulling his wand quickly, but not quick enough as the Snatcher he knew as Melaby flicked his own, zapping the wand out of Harry's fingers. Dias quickly appeared from behind him, rushed toward Harry and grabbed onto him. Harry didn't fight, he knew it would be pointless as also appearing from behind Melaby was Selwyn and a very sleepy Ron.

"I thought to myself that you weren't acting like yourself today." Selwyn was looking at Harry as he spoke. "And thought I had a reason to finally get you blasted off the face of this earth, removed from our responsibility, but then realized when I arrived and found this one in deep slumber, clueless of the meeting, someone was trying to play us."

Selwyn walked further into the room, his nose turning upwards at Harry's belongings that had been exposed, then reached the spot where the owl had fallen over, and picked it up by grabbing a few feathers, letting it dangle from his hands at arms length. Harry made to grab the owl from his hand, but Dias latched both his hands upon his arms tighter, and gave a great pull backwards. Selwyn watched, eyes flashing dangerously as he took the note and unrolled it. His eyes moved slowly back and forth over it, his lips curling into a pleased sneer.

"Well, well, well. Look at this fellas." He passed the note around and Harry felt helpless.

...

The afternoon clouds had rolled in, a typical mountain rain storm was close at hand, and they were not going to be anywhere near cover before it would fall. They didn't care though, being outside was their main goal as they had spent most of the morning in each others arms, learning their deepest desires all over again. The more Snape had tried pushing everything away, the harder it came back to smack him, sticking to him like paste and not allowing himself to get away. It was as if the problem had suddenly become clear, the reason for the rhyme had been explained to him. He was being hard on himself; he wasn't taking advantage of what had been placed in front of him, the opportunity that had been presented all because Harry had searched for his help. As he fed his hunger for the second time that morning, he made a mental note to send Harry a thank you gift after everything calmed down. Then at that thought, he felt everything beginning to slide away again, the problem became fuzzy, the rhyme became nothing more than garbled words. If it hadn't of been for Hermione becoming demanding and pulling him out of the haze, he would have remembered what they were doing and why they were there, and would have made everything stop. He would have lovingly covered her up, sacrificing his own pained feelings to make sure hers were repaired.

They had decided to take a walk, stretch their legs, breathe in some good, fresh air, and it seemed to help him forget, just being alone with her in unfamiliar territory. Walking through a trail of dirt and stones, there was nothing more than just the two of them and a few songbirds and it felt right. He wanted to feel that way forever, and before he knew it, had taken her, lifting her so she was between him and a tree and buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. He drew light kisses against her skin, up her neck, her little breathless sighs staggering out of her as he managed to nip at a sensitive spot just below her ear. Her hands in his hair, tugging, pleading with him to move the nibbling and for a while he let her guide him where she wanted him.

...

Melaby had helped Dais settle Harry into a chair when they reached the house once more. A quick wave from a wand released ropes that cinched Harry's wrists and ankles down and he tested them out the moment he was left alone in the room. He could hear talking just on the other side of a closed door, and strained to listen. He could make out the familiarity of his name when it came around, but the other words were lost. Footsteps, he could hear those as well, and they were pacing back and forth, the floor squeaking with every step. He could hear the slight whistling of a tea pot.

Fairly certain he still looked like Ron (he hadn't felt any transformation take place), he began to twist his wrists even harder. Maybe if he could get out of the ropes, he could mix himself up with Ron and play them, he'd have to take cues of course to see exactly how Ron spoke and moved, acted in his ways, but could only dwelled for so long on the plan. His wrists were beginning to bleed from the friction, and it seemed the more he moved, the tighter the ropes had felt.

The door opened, Harry grew still.

Ron stood there, eyebrows slightly lifted, nostrils widening, and Harry feared the ginger was there to seek revenge. Ron circled Harry, a mixture of expressions from awe to disgust moved across his face in a matter of seconds before he pulled up a chair and straddled it so he could lean on the back and look at Harry.

"It all makes sense now." He said. "I was wondering what it was you were doing in Paris. I thought that surely you wouldn't have followed Hermione and me, but then she went missing." He tilted his head, the curve of his lips suggesting the thought had potentially regrettable results. Harry's head bowed down, but he did not look away. He continued staring straight at Ron, intently.

"Why must you take everything I have?" Ron asked.

"I have taken nothing of yours." Harry replied.

"Oh sure you have. You've taken my life away from me. I know you can't see it being as thick skulled as you are, but I have come to the decision that if I had never sat with you on the train our first day, our friendship would never have been and I'd be living happily."

"That was your own doing." Harry reminded him. "And for the record, I never forced you to stay friends with me. You never left my side because you wanted to help, at least that's what you led us on to believe. I think you're now just realizing the success you've had is due from riding on my coattails." Harry regretted it as the words left his tongue. They were too sharp, not what he wanted to say at all, and certainly not what he had thought at any time. Ron's skin began to glow a crimson shade, he became visibly shaky.

"Riding your coattails? I'm sorry to burst your bubble there, but those coattails were mostly Hermione's doing. Your success merely came from being The Chosen One."

"Leave Hermione out of this." Harry whispered.

"Leaving her out of this is not an option." Ron's anger seemed to flash out, turning into some kind of amusement. "Don't try to fool me into thinking you don't know what is going on. I was told you had sat in, in my spot?"

"And for good reason. I learned a thing or two." Harry spoke through gritted teeth.

"Maybe so." Ron agreed, giving a dry laugh. "But not a good reason for you. Oh no. That was a mistake."

"You just wait. When I get out of here, and I will, the Ministry will be alerted, Azkaban will be on high alert, and your little pals out there will be history." Harry was speaking out of anger, saying things he should have been keeping to himself, but the more Ron's smirk grew at him, the harder it was to remain quiet. Harry had twisted his arms again, the ropes growing tighter, and Ron stood, placing the chair back to where it was.

"Oh you'll get out of here." Ron said. Harry stopped twisting and sent him a curious look. "I'll even let you go, myself, however, your memories will have to be left behind."

A/N: My word counter is up to 50,266! I made my goal! Now I can relax a bit and not feel rushed, though the updates will still happen regularly. Thank you to all of you as my goal would have been a lot smaller and I probably wouldn't have hit it if not for the motivation. I'm going to wait until the last possible moment to enter everything in and get my official word count, but as a Nano-er, just knowing I have reached my goal is good enough with or without camp =^^= loves!


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Validated my win! Again, thank you to everyone! This chapter gets steamy, so reader beware if you aren't expecting it. Enjoy!

"Gin!" Harry yelled from the kitchen, then waited for a reply. When none came, he gave the eggs that were quickly cooking in the frying pan another good stir, then removed them from the heat. Wiping his hands on a towel, he made his way from the living room, up the stairs, and to his bedroom where a frail outline of his wife laid on the bed. He stopped to stare at her before moving to her, sitting beside her on the bed. She barely moved when he ran his fingers over her cheek.

"Breakfast is ready." He said, leaning forward and kissing her temple. "Should I bring it up?"

Ginny's eyes fluttered open and she turned her head, though it seemed painful, almost like it took too much strength to do so and gave him a weak smile. Harry smiled back at her, kissed her one more time, then left.

He spooned the eggs on two plates, poured two glasses of orange juice, and made his way back upstairs where he had found Ginny slowly pulling herself up to a sitting position. He gave her the plate, guiding it to her lap as she held onto it with two hands, her bony fingers looking like twigs as she grabbed her fork. Harry settled in next to her, already clearing half his plate before she had taken one bite. He watched her carefully, not sure when she became so skinny, and wondering if her time spent at home was any help at all. She had told him a doctor that had visited during her stay at home said she was depressed and would do with some good food and getting active.

She had told Harry that maybe going home was a bad idea, too many memories of Fred had been stuck with her there, but Harry only took her in his arms and assured her that she was allowed to grieve, not one of them mentioning the fact that ten years had passed. It had been over twenty years and Harry still missed his parents, he didn't see any need to tell her otherwise.

"We can pop over to walk around the gardens today if you'd like?" Harry suggested and Ginny gave a small nod, chewing her eggs slowly. Just down the street there was a community garden and at this time of year it was sure to be in full bloom. Harry was certain it would make for good exercise, and maybe stopping to smell the roses would help.

"Maybe I'll give Ron and Hermione a call to see if they want to meet us there?" Harry suggested. Ginny once more gave a small nod in approval and Harry returned it, smiling large. He gave Ginny's leg a squeeze as he hoisted himself out of the bed, grabbed his plate and returned to the kitchen where he washed the dishes and grabbed the Muggle phone. He dialed in Ron and Hermione's number, and waited as it rang.

...

"You're over-mixing it." Severus' breath melted into Hermione's shoulder as she stood in front of the stove. She grinned, leaning back into a warm, bare chest. His strong arms circled around her waist and before she could protest, he had swung her around, his hands digging into her hair, demanding a kiss from her. She kissed him, the only thing separating them and denying the space between them to close was the bowl that contained pancake mix that had been stirred so much it now resembled water. Severus let his hands leave her hair, grab the bowl blindly, and placed it on what he thought was the counter, not noticing when the bowl dropped through the air, missing the counter by a hair, and crashed on the floor; they were too busy being consumed by the other. Severus dropped his lips to her jaw, tracing it back to her neck where he nibbled. Hermione leaned her head back, allowing him the space to do with as he pleased, and pulled him closer by his arms. His hands grabbed her waist, lifted her up, and settled her onto him using the counter as leverage. He was nipping her shoulder now, letting out his own pleasurable moans when she grabbed his hair tightly and gave a gentle tug, her own guttural sounds making him shiver, thrust harder. Hermione let gravity do most of the work, pulling him deeper into her with her legs that she circled around his waist, her breathing quickening as he drove her deeper and deeper into ecstasy. It wasn't long before Severus collapsed, just after feeling Hermione tense on him, and dug his face into her skin. He breathed deeply, taking in her scent, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her naked skin. She was still shivering from pleasure when he finally released her. They both glanced down at the shattered bowl and ruined batter, Hermione leaning against his chest and gave a sigh.

"I guess we're going out for breakfast." Severus said. Hermione looked up at him, her large, brown eyes glowed at the suggestion and she kissed him once more, softly.

"I'll go shower." She said. Severus let his lips curl in anticipation and he decided to give her a few minutes head start before joining her. His hunger was something food could not cure. Just as he was about to take his leave from the kitchen, there was a knocking at the window. Looking over, an owl was sitting on the other side, a leg raised, scraping against the window. Opening it, Severus retrieved the letter.

'Umbridge is heading this, using her patronus to converse with a group of people, I believe they're Snatchers. Selwyn is one of them. They said they were going to get information from McGonagall. Also heard the Burrow has been placed under a curse by a house elf. Meet me at your place when you get this ASAP. HP'

Severus had half a mind to crumple up the parchment and forget he had received it altogether, wanting to feel Hermione again, craving her already. Just picturing the water dripping over her body had turned him on again, yet as he read the note once more, he realized the urgency of the moment. Suddenly, he felt ashamed, having just spent the past day and a half feeding a carnal need that seemed to come out of nowhere. Clinging to the feeling that threatened to leave him, he raced to the bathroom and opened the door.

"I was wondering when you'd show up." Hermione giggled, poking her head out from behind the shower curtain followed by one long, slender, smooth leg. Severus gulped, waving the letter beside him as if to remind himself that he had a task.

"I need to go, Potter's asking me to meet him." He said, refusing to look at Hermione who was now pouting. Turning to leave, he hesitated at the door, growled at himself, then rushed over to the curtain. He threw it back, not caring that water was spraying everywhere, and took Hermione one more time.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Sorry for the wait guys! My birthday was this week and the parties kept me away =^^= here you all go! Enjoy!

His house at Spinners End was cold and dark. Stepping through the fireplace, even he felt unwanted as desolate as the room felt. He waved his hand, illuminating the candles that hung from the ceiling and the few that were placed along the wall. It added light, but he could not tell if Harry had arrived. His eyes narrowed, annoyance beginning to fill deep inside him. He could be at the cabin, still lost in a maze of blankets, arms and legs. He wanted to go back, but was also reminded of the note that was still clutched in his hand of why he was there. The better part of an hour had gone by, and with no sign of Harry showing up, he had gladly taken a handful of floo powder and directed the flames to take him to Harry's residence. Stepping through, he was greeted by Ginny, who had been curled up on the couch under a thick quilt, her face was the only part of her visible and she stared at him blankly as he approached.

"Where's Potter?" Snape asked, searching the room. Ginny only blinked and looked back into the fireplace. He sighed, then moved to the hallway, finding himself at the bottom of the stairs.

"Potter!" He yelled, listened for a moment, then proceeded to walk up. He gripped the banister tightly with one hand, his feet lifting slowly. Harry appeared at the top of the stairs and greeted him with a shocked and crooked smile.

"Professor! Quite a surprise to see you here." He said.

"Surprised to see me?" Snape scoffed. "Did you forget that you wanted to meet me?"

"I wanted to meet you?" Harry asked, drawing his head back and pushing his eyebrows together. "I'm sorry Professor, but I'm a little confused."

Snape withdrew the note from his pocket and handed it to him. Harry took it and read it. His eyes squinting so tightly behind his glasses, Snape wondered if he could even see it.

"I didn't write this." Harry stated, glancing up from the note to look at Snape who was standing beside him now. "What is it about? Why is Umbridge involved? I thought Selwyn had died in the war, we haven't been able to find him or have heard anything about him since then. Have you been to the Burrow?"

"No, I assure you, you did write it." Snape had a look on his face like he was eating a sour candy. His voice was soft, almost hopeless as he spoke, and the hand he placed on Harry's shoulder did nothing to comfort either of them.

"How was Paris, Harry?" Snape asked, delicately.

"Paris?" Harry shrugged Snape's hand off him. "I haven't been to Paris."

Snape's face fell. Harry did not remember. Something had been done to have removed his memory and for the most part did not know how to explain to Harry of the past few weeks without him sounding like a fool.

"Have you spoken with Weasley at all?" Snape asked and Harry shook his head.

"I haven't been able to reach him or Hermione all day."

Hermione.

Snape paled, the thought just hitting him hard and even knocked him back into the wall as the thought deepened. He had left her alone at the cabin. With Harry's memory gone, this seemed nothing more than only a delightful mishap for whoever sent the owl; it removed him from the picture, it gave them a way to get to Hermione. They were protected enough as long as they didn't use magic, but there was a chance, a small one, that owls could be tracked - and it seemed he did judging by Harry's cluelessness - the owl that delivered the letter to him that morning had been watched.

"Professor?" Harry asked, now watching Snape carefully, almost worriedly. Snape shook his head slightly, regarding Harry for only a second.

"I must go." He said. "If you hear anything from Weasley or Hermione, let me know." And popped out of there before another second could pass.

...

Snape appeared outside the cabin, hidden by a thick tree and pulled his wand. He searched his surroundings, halfway expecting to be ambushed the moment he arrived, but not allowing himself to relax when he noticed the area was clear. He eyed the cabin, which looked just like he left it; none of it had been destroyed or burned. The letter from Harry had mentioned the Burrow having been cursed by a house elf, and knew there was a good possibility that if anyone had found their hiding place, had been subjected to the same house elf treatment, but also knew he couldn't just stand outside the whole time watching. He gripped his wand tighter, stood a little straighter and approached the front door.

Entering the cabin, he remained quiet, listening to any signs of struggle. He closed the door quietly, cleared the front rooms and almost blasted a portrait off the wall when the sleeping form of an old lady woke unexpectedly from her rocking chair and shuffled out of the frame. He made his way to the bedroom where Hermione had stood with her back to him, facing the bed. He softened considerably seeing her, and allowed himself to stand there for a moment just to watch her. She jumped upon turning and seeing him, a hand going straight to her chest.

"You gave me a fright!" She admitted, though had refused to look in his eyes. "I didn't hear you come in. How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to plan our whole night." Snape purred, allowing a mischievous smile to cross his face and he pressed forward, taking her into his arms. He could feel her begin to relax into him, but then she had stiffened gently, pushing herself out of his arms, and remained silent. This small action had confused him enough to remember Harry's memory loss. He gripped his wand a bit tighter as she returned to the bed.

"Harry doesn't remember anything." He told her. "It's like he's been pulled into whatever is charming the others."

"Or it could be a confundus charm." Harry said, whispering it so low, Snape had to step closer to hear her. She paused in what she was doing as Snape approached behind her. He wrapped his arms around her middle and kissed her shoulder as he peered over it. She was stuffing clothes into a bag.

"Packing for a trip?" He asked, letting his lips brush against her temple. Being close to her did things to him and he hated himself for not having the power to stop. He let his hand brush her hair, glancing across the back of her neck, his fingers making little, slow circles as they moved to her shoulder.

"Severus, I-" Hermione began to speak.

"-I think that's the lot 'Mione." Ron has cut her off, coming out of the bathroom holding a smaller plastic bag. He had been looking down inside of it, until noticing Snape's presence as he rubbed her shoulders, and grew red in the face though he didn't say much. Snape saw Ron, felt his blood pressure begin to rise, and had protectively stepped in front of Hermione, keeping her out of view from Ron.

"I'm returning with Ronald." Hermione said, Snape spun around to face her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He could see tears building up in her eyes that she blinked away ferociously.

"I don't understand." Snape whispered, shaking his head slightly as she turned around again.

"I appreciate all you have done for me, I really have, but-" she turned and looked at him again, stepping outside of Snape's protective boundary and looked at Ron. He gave her a slight nod, sent a glare to Snape, then stepped out of the room to give them some privacy.

"You'll be making a mistake." He spoke, concerned, and reached out for her. She didn't allow him to touch her, pulling out of his reach as gently as she could.

"He told me of what happened in Paris, that he had been captured by people and had been forced to do all those things."

"That may be the truth, Hermione, but you shouldn't trust him." Snape said, shaking his head. She was still refusing to look and him and had let out a deep breath on her own.

"He's promised he wouldn't hurt me anymore. He says the spell has been lifted from him and as long as we're together, everyone will be safe."

"You of all people should know not to believe it!" Snape said. He stepped forward again, this time forcibly grabbing Hermione's hands in his. "Look at me." He said. Her eyes stayed down. He squeezed her hands, enough to gain her attention and the moment eye contact had been made, he slipped into her mind.

Hermione had stepped out of the shower, drying herself off with a towel when a loud pop had drawn her attention from the living room. She wrapped the towel around herself tightly, and had paused when she reached the living room. Ron had been there, standing still, his hands bunched together and a guilty look on his face. At first she had been frightened, backing slowly away, her hands raising in habit to protect herself, but Ron had not advanced.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I've come to apologize." He chanced a glance up to look and her and when he saw Hermione shrinking away, he collapsed. "Whatever I've done, I'm sorry. That wasn't me, I wasn't myself." He was speaking quickly. "All I know is that I've been under some kind of curse that made me act in whatever way caused you to run."

"I can't forgive you on this, Ron." She said, shaking her head and lowering her hands. "How can I trust you?"

Ron gave a small nod. "I know you can't, but you have to try."

Hermione layered her arms over herself, hugging herself and watched Ron on the ground. When he shifted, her arms were back up as if trying to hold him away.

"Why did they let you go?" She asked.

"I don't know." Ron shook his head, "all I can remember, really, is that Harry showed up and that I was being released."

"No. No, that doesn't make sense." Hermione shook her head.

"I need you back, Hermione." Ron said, sounding strained. "We need to be together again to stay safe."

"I need you out of my life to stay safe." Hermione said directly, her eyes widening as she read over the words she seemed to say too quickly for her to stop, then found herself retreating into the bedroom, closing the door behind her and locking it. Ron spoke from the other side.

"This s just as hard for me to do as it is for you to see." He said. "If you can't forgive me, fine. I understand. But I need you to return with me."

Hermione rested her head on the door.

"Why?"

"They promised me as long as we're together, they wouldn't harm anyone else."

Snape felt his mind pinch, as if a sudden sharp migraine had taken him and shoved him from her memory. When his vision returned and the pain subsided, he was looking at Hermionr who was angrily glaring at him.

"This is hard enough to do without you snooping around my thoughts." She said.

"Well you weren't being very open." He lowered his forehead a little. "Don't go with him." He pleaded. "Please."

"I don't want to." She admitted. "But I don't want anyone else to get hurt."

"Then stay here. If all you need to be is together, then stay here."

"We would if we could." Ron said appearing in the doorway. Snape spun around, he had his wand drawn and Ron tensed up, his whole body growing rigid.

"I could make you." Snape seethed. Ron was still rigid, his nostrils flaring every now and again as he looked from the wand to Snape, shakily he withdrew his own.

"I-I'm sure you could." Ron said, his actions proving to be more confident than his words. Snape would even say he appeared more like a puppet than a man trying to stand up for what he wanted, and given te position he was in, wouldn't press it far aside they maybe Ron wasn't acting exactly on his own accord.

"Please." Hermione stepped next to Snape, she put a hand gently on his arm and pressed it down, slowly. "Please stop."

Snape looked at Hermione, her eyes pleading with him to not start something. Against his own judgement, he allowed her to stop him. She had the bag over her shoulder and had turned from him, joining Ron at his side, who still had his wand raised. Snape felt helpless, watching as the second woman he had ever cared about, linked arms with another man. Hermione looked at him, something hidden behind the silence she took on. He could feel that she wanted to tell him something, a secret of some sort she wanted him to know, but had not the time to ask him before Ron secured her arm and disappeared with a loud 'pop.'


	22. (The new) Chapter 22

"Tough day, eh?" A voice asked him. Snape growled, then grumbled an incoherent answer. The Fire Whiskey's he had finished off had made the room spin, and for the most part, he had to keep his eyes closed just to feel grounded. He would have been content to stay like that, but the newcomer who sat beside him, obviously unable to read his unsociable body language, and could feel him staring, would give him to move.

"You know Fire Whiskey will give you dragons breath when you wake up."

Snape let out a hoarse sigh, an attempt at a laugh, then brought his head up, opening his eyes enough to see Edna place another glass of Fire Whiskey in front of him and removed the empty one. She looked at the stranger, who had seemed to wave her off and sent her into a rambling about rude customers. He grabbed the drink and let it hover in the air before him, his elbow resting on the bar.

"You know drinking your problems away won't lead anywhere, you'll still have them when you're sober...and quite a nasty hangover." The stranger spoke again.

Snape took a mouthful of the liquid, swished it around his mouth once, then swallowed.

"My problems are my own and I'd like to keep them that way. Advice from a stranger is not appreciated, or needed and I'd thank you to stay off my back." He really did try to be as nice as he could, though the grip on his glass would give him away. The stranger snorted, gave a hearty laugh, and pounded Snape on his back.

"You've always been a secluded man, Severus, but never cordial. I believe that woman has changed you."

Snape threw back the remaining liquid, grimaced at the burn, then turned, slamming the glass down onto the countertop, ready to give the stranger some advice of his own, but got caught on his words. Selwyn grinned back at him, giving Snape another pat, and adding a laugh.

"You." Snape seethed.

"Me." Selwyn answered, amused. "After ten years and that's the greeting I get?"

"You think you deserve more?" Snape narrowed his eyes. Selwyn shrugged.

"I just think it's a lousy way of greeting an old friend."

"Friend? Don't place yourself in such high regard."

"Oh come, come, now Severus. I think you forget that I was one of the only ones who trusted in your loyalty."

"Such good that did you." Snape huffed, rolling his eyes back to the wall behind the bar. He lifted his drink, then put it down again remembering it was empty. Edna, who had been standing feet away watching carefully, drying a few glasses snapped to attention and quickly poured him another.

"Why are you here?" Snape asked.

"To recruit you."

"Recruit me?" Snape turned, questioning Selwyn who was staring at the drink in his fingers.

"Umbridge is planning another purity war as soon as she gets out of Azkaban. She's tasked me with bringing together all the remaining Death Eaters to side with her."

"And if I don't want to join?"

"I'm sure you will."

Snape wrinkled his nose, gingerly sipped the whiskey, then placed the glass down and pushed it away. He fished in his pocket, pulling out a few bills, and threw them on the counter.

"Don't count me in. Just let me be." He walked to the door, and stepped outside. Selwyn was right next to him.

"Heartbreak does strange things, doesn't it? I'm sure after you sober up some, you'll change your mind."

"Heartbreak-" Snape took in a breath. Harry's note had come back to his memory, remembering through his drunken mind.

"You need to forget about the girl and remember your place in this world. Don't know what you see in that Mudblood anyway, all she is, is-"

Snape had grabbed Selwyn, throwing him back into the building, and gripped his coat with both hands, pressing his face inches from his.

"Where is she?" He hissed. Selwyn let out a laugh. Snape released one hand, brought it back, balling it up, and let it fly forward. It connected with the side of his face and Selwyn let out another barking laugh.

"Where is she?" Snape asked again.

"Why Severus, if I didn't know any better I'd say you actually liked the girl."

Snape punched again, this time connecting with his stomach, the air pushed out of Selwyn, he doubled over. There was no laughing this time. Selwyn grabbed Snape's arms, pulled down, and pushed him away.

"I don't want to fight." Selwyn said as he broke free and hunched over, a hand held out in protest. Snape had pulled his wand when they parted, standing straighter than a board, and was watching him stiffly. He didn't want a fight either, not in the state he was in; he didn't trust his tongue would pronounce any spells efficiently enough, and end up in worse condition.

"Hermione said if she and Ron were together no one would get hurt." Snape said. Selwyn nodded, wincing as he stood upright.

"Had to get her out of the house somehow." A wheeze started from Selwyn, forming into a broken up cackle, ending with coughing as he doubled over again.

"Why is she needed?"

"Surely you could figure that out on your own. No? I'll give you a hint. Umbridge can't just waltz out of Azkaban on her own now, can she?"

Snape's wand dropped a little as his mind raced. Hermione headed the Law Enforcement at the Ministry, it took her signature to get a pardon.

"There are quite a few takers looking to be freed, my brother." Selwyn said. "That's a lot of signatures, and we have the leverage to get them all out."

Snape's eyes widened, everything clicking into place. The leverage, everyone affected by the house elf magic Harry had written about, it made sense.

"That stupid girl really does have a Gryffindor heart, you know. Willing to do what it takes to save her loved ones. Willing to sacrifice all she's accomplished over the years just so no one gets hurt."

Snape bared his teeth.

"What makes you so sure?" He asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Let's just say we're running the magic on half power right now. On full power, if she fails to comply, the results can drive one to madness, if not death. Something we both know she'll not want on anyone."

Snape lunged, his hand fighting through air to grab Selwyn, but the Death Eater merely grinned and tipped an invisible hat on his head before vanishing altogether. Snape swiped at the air around him, letting out a throaty yell, kicked the dirt under his feet a few times before just standing there. He pushed his hands through his hair a few times, shoved his wand into his pocket and hurriedly walked back to the cabin.

...

Inside the cabin, Snape had floated a quill and piece of parchment in front of him. He paced back and fourth in front of the fireplace, speaking almost too fast for the quill to keep up.

"Leverage. The house elf magic. At the Burrow, obviously. Everyone who was at that party was affected, which means it has to be the building itself. Let's see."

Closing his eyes, Snape continued pacing, rubbing his temples as if it would massage the thoughts to the front of his mind.

"Harry, lost his ability to think for himself, before losing his memory that is. Weasley...became abusive, aggressive. Hermione became weak, dependent." He stopped and looked at the quill.

"Got that?" He asked. The quill rushed through the last few letters, then shivered as if nodding, then seemed to look at Snape as he closed his eyes again.

"Molly, her need for grandchildren and food. Arthur...absorbed in his silly muggle artifacts. Their daughter, depression."

Snape sucked in another breath.

"Longbottom has faced his fears and Minerva has trapped herself away doing Merlin knows what in her office...it seems everyone has lost their strengths. Their weaknesses have overtaken their ability to think straight." Snape turned to the quill, which had been mid-sentence, and grabbed the parchment. He looked over it, nodding. The quill tapped his shoulder, shoving the sharp end into his shoulder, leaving black ink marks behind. Letting go of the parchment, it floated back in spot and the quill wrote heatedly.

He had been in the Burrow. That night, he had taken Hermione to eat and had ended up at the lighthouse. The memory made his lips tingle as he remembered how gently and how warmly they had kissed. The curse had made him take his guard down, his heart that he had spent years and years turning it into a block of ice, thawed by a kiss. Though he still felt infatuation with her, knowing now that most of it came from stepping into the Burrow had only made him worry more; would the attraction last after the curse had been removed?

""It'll have to be removed." Snape breathed a heavy breath as the thought sank in. He succumbed into the sofa, rubbing his face with his hands. The thought of letting the feeling of love go was heavy, almost a burden. Thinking of how it would change his feelings, how empty he'd feel was something he didn't like. Hermione had returned with Ron, he had to surrender the second woman he cared about, but that didn't mean his heart had to go with it. If there was anything he had learned this time around, it was that a life without feeling his heart beating once again was not the life he wanted to have forever. The big difference had been Hermione was still alive, there was still a chance. The fact remained that Ron was still under their influence, he was certain of it. More than likely an Imperius curse, though the possibility of the elf magic turning him angry was quite large as well.

Snapping himself from his thoughts, he went to the fireplace and threw a handful of floo powder inside. He had to get to Harry. He had to talk Harry into visiting Umbridge, get him to realize what was happening, and stop her before anything could happen.


	23. Authors Note

Just so you all know, life has been super busy lately. I haven't forgotten about my stories, and will continue after all the graduations, birthdays and anniversaries are over with! Hang with me guys! Xx!


	24. Chapter 23

"You need to trust me, Professor. We have Umbridge on a high security watch and there's no way she's getting out of there without being noticed." Harry was shaking his head, Snape was shaking his own, concentrating on breathing. It was the only thing he could do without shaking the boy to his senses.

"And if she does? With the way things are, it is highly suggestible to take away any suggestion of freedom."

"Why are you so suddenly interested in her?"

Snape squeezed his eyes shut.

"For the third time, Potter, I have knowledge that she may be freed in the near future and the longer we put it off, the harder preventing this is going to be."

"Knowledge or not, you're just going to have to trust me that she's well under lock and key. We have some of the Ministry's best Aurors looking after that department and with any sign of trouble, I'll be the first to know, besides it will take Hermione's signature and we both know that's as likely as Slytherin winning the house cup."

"This would be so much easier if you could only remember." Snape mumbled through a sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Harry drew his eyebrows together, but said nothing. Snape had tried explaining to Harry of what was going on, how he had sought his help for Ron's abusive behavior, how everyone had been acting under a curse, and for the most part Harry had found it laughable. Snape had stopped pressing the fact when he realized it was getting him nowhere and had, instead, pressed the matter at hand.

"You have to trust me." Harry repeated after a moment. Snape let out a sharp laugh.

"Sure. Just like you trusted me?" He rolled his eyes. "You'd think receiving information like this from a known Ex-Death Eater would influence your thoughts. Never mind that I spent most of your life keeping you from danger. If there's ever any favor you could repay me with, this would be it."

They had a staring match. Snape's black eyes mixed with Harry's green and not a word was spoken. Harry looked as if he was searching for the perfect thing to say, another excuse to keep Snape from getting into Azkaban. Snape took on an unusual softness, pleading with him to reconsider. Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Harry slumped his shoulders and went to the coat closet, retrieved a robe and threw it over his shoulders.

"I've got some work to do, Gin. I'll be back later." Harry called up the stairs, waiting for a reply. None came. "Ginny?" Harry called again before moving up the stairs, Snape close behind.

They turned into the bedroom. Ginny was frozen, staring at a blank part of the wall. She had a hand, holding a few kernels of popcorn to her mouth that were suspended in the air. She was very much alive, as they could tell from the slow rise and fall of her chest, other than that, she could have been mistaken as a wax figure. Her eyes glossed over, and she slowly blinked, beginning to shiver. Harry ran to her, grabbing her shoulders and gave her a few gentle shakes.

"Ginny." He demanded her attention. The wall held it. He shook again. "Ginny!" His voice grew and even Snape stepped closer in concern.

"Gin-"

Ginny snapped back into reality, her cheeks flushed a healthy pink glow, and she looked at Harry as if he had grown a second nose.

"What is it?" She asked, growing more frantic as Harry continued to stare at her. He felt her face, her cheeks, her forehead, and she swatted his hands away.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"You...you're talking." Harry licked at his lips in disbelief.

"Of course I am." She raised an eyebrow.

"This is the first words you've spoken in...in..." Harry searched his memories. Not being able to place a time frame, he turned slowly to Snape, who had his eyebrows raised, and his mouth slightly open in awe. The last time he had seen Ginny, she could barely lift her own head. Though she was still quite underweight, she appeared to come back to life before their very eyes.

...

Hermione watched the mirror as a faint reflection of Ginny grew slightly stronger when the quill she had been holding had touched the first piece of parchment placed in front of her. With each letter she wrote, Ginny became clearer and even more stronger, and when her name was finished, Ginny looked so clear in the reflection, she had to turn around to make sure she wasn't standing behind her. She was met with a heavy hand that turned her head back around. Putrid breath ran across her cheek as the man she learned was named Melaby forced her to look at the reflection.

"Easy as pie." He whispered. "And the more cooperation we get from you, the more of your dear friends will be returned to normal."

He let Hermione's head go with a heavy push, she winced though there wasn't any pain. Her mouth was pulled into a tight line as her eyes lingered on the mirror. Mrs. Weasley had popped up, or at least someone that resembled the old woman. She looked tired, as if she hadn't slept in weeks. Her plump cheeks hung down, her eyes were red from fury and the blurred edges around her were filled with what looked to be the backdrop of a bakery. If she didn't know the Burrow and its walls so well, she would have guessed that's where she had been. Molly had a mixing bowl under one arm, a spoon swirled around it on its own, while her other hand was ferociously pounding a lump of dough.

"Sign here." Melaby said, thrusting a paper at Hermione. She glanced at it as if it was vile and just seeing it charged a sickening reaction. She thought about fighting, but knew the consequence of she didn't and would never be able to bring herself to kill Molly even if she needed to.

Ron had told her what to do shortly after leaving the cabin. It was like a switch had been turned on, and he had been returned into the man she had to force herself to forget. His face had grown red, angry, and he had such a tight grasp on her wrist, the marks remained. The only thing that had kept her calm was the voice stored in her memory, Snape telling her how to be strong, how to remember who she was. It worked for a while, she had managed to mantra herself away from the fear that built, but by the time she had arrived at the house she was currently in, the calming voice of Snape was soon pushed out of her. Ron had flung her into a chair, and had 'set the rules,' as he had put it. The less struggle she gave, the easier things were going to be. She struggled, however, and he had used the back of his hand. Her jaw ached seconds after the hit had happened, and she was momentarily blinded as stars danced across her vision. He grabbed her hair, standing behind her now, yanked her head back and used that to wheel the chair forward. He had settled her into the desk, placed his hands on her shoulders, and gave them a squeeze so tight she found herself wriggling under them involuntarily.

'See that mirror? Watch it carefully. If you truly love the people in it, it should be clear what you have to do.'

The mirror had flashed before her a dead person. Well, in all honesty, George had only looked dead. Spell trails had been linked up with him, blue ones traveling into his nose, an orange one to his mouth, he appeared lost to the world. Ginny had told her he had fallen ill and had been placed in St. Mungo's, but she had not expected this. 'Ill' was an understatement in this case. Ron had harshly whispered for her to sign her name, going so far as to grabbing her hand and forcing the quill into it. The feathers of the quill, usually soft and comfortable, stabbed at her skin and became prickly as he pushed her hand to a piece of paper laying before her. She knew the paper well, having filled it out only a couple of times before, she had spent the first week of her job memorizing the words so she could recite the pardon in her sleep.

'Dear Sir, (or Madame)

On behalf of the Minister of Magic, the witch or wizard, (their name), has been granted full pardon of his or her crimes. May this declaration serve as proof of time served within Azkaban, and their record cleared of any punishment given. Their release will be effective immediately.

Sincerely,'

And she would sign her name. Her signature, one she dreaded she would mess up, or forget how to do, was being forced by her husband who knew it so well. She had twisted her arm, attempting to pull it out of his grip, the signature hiccuping as she did turning into a wiggly line that ended sharply as she managed to free her hand, and Ron laughed. His laugh was gleeful, too gleeful.

'You know what? I never liked George.' Ron's voice was smooth, sticky like honey, and the breath that bounced off her cheek hung there like a dark cloud on a rainy day. 'Always picking on me, one-upping me every chance I got. Those pranks of his were nothing more than bullshit anyway.'

Hermione had been confused, but as she brought her attention back to the mirror, had seen the spell trails losing color, then growing a dirty grey, then watching as mediwitches and mediwizards had blocked him from sight in maddening speed, did she realize he was dead. No words could explain the look on her face, or the dropping feeling in her stomach. No definition could be put on what she felt toward Ronald at that moment. He had let her go when she broke free, and she grabbed the mirror, shaking it as if that would bring him back to life, erase the mistake she didn't know she would make. She had begged him to come back until her voice was raspy and sore: Ron laughed harder at every word. She had picked up the quill, signed her name over and over, scrutinizing the mirror after every finished name until she couldn't fit anymore signatures on the page, but he never gained life again. It had been too late.

Her signature upon the pardon that had been shoved in front of her had slanted to the left. Usually, it was straight, neat and orderly, slanting more to the right if anything, and as she was signing her name, the hesitation she forced herself to ignore was obviously still there. With the final 'e,' she threw the quill down and grabbed the mirror. Molly pounded the dough a few times more before slowing down, then stopped. The bowl had dropped from her arm, and she looked all around her, seeing the piles of food that had been made of her hand supposedly for the first time. Had Hermione not known, this would have been comical, like a good prank and she did not have a moment to even try to find some good in the situation until a new pardon had been placed in front of her, the image on the mirror switching to a crazed looking Arthur, and another sharp push of her head.

"Sign." Melaby ordered.

A/N: Sorry for the wait guys! Thank you for hanging in there with me. Aren't out of the busy season quite yet, but I really do intend to finish this story and start others (there's another camp in July so I'm already planning more!). Thank you for the likes and favorites!


	25. Chapter 24

Ginny had taken off at a full run toward the Burrow as soon as they had arrived. Harry had not seen the problem with this, but Snape, eyes widening as she grew closer and closer to the front door had feared the worst. He called to her to stop, picking up his own step as he followed behind her, but she did not hear. She was calling for her mother, stifling his warnings, and only ran faster the closer she got. He was actually quite amazed at the speed she was running; someone so frail otherwise would surely lose balance and topple over. Pulling his wand, he sent a spell just before her, just before the door, that she bounced into and fell to the ground as she hit it. Harry glared, and Snape ignored it as they ran to catch up with her.

"I have reason to believe that doorway is cursed. Walk through it and you'd find yourself back to how you were an hour ago." Snape explained as they reached her. Harry helped her stand, wrapping an arm around her waist, but the glare didn't disappear. Ginny wasn't listening, looking to the door and trying to break free from Harry's arm, she continued screaming for her mum.

"Maybe she's still affected?" Harry asked, turning his own attention to the door. Snape could only shrug.

They could hear things happening, stuff toppling, items breaking, and muffled words being said on the other side of the door. It swung open, Molly appearing worn and looking unkept. Her hair was frizzy and oily, her skin looked grimy, and behind her, from floor to ceiling, stood wavering piles of pie, one of them managing to fall over with the breeze caused by the opening door. Molly let out a scream as it fell in a clatter before she shut the door forcefully, a hand patting through her hair as she collected herself. Harry finally released Ginny and they embraced each other.

"Bloody hell." Harry exclaimed as he peered through the windows, seeing the evidence of the past few weeks. Snape only had to use his imagination, but could see quite a few Chicken Pot Pies sitting along the window sill. He leaned close to Harry and smirked.

"Do you believe me now?" He asked, and Harry could only blink in reply.

"One minute I'm making tea and the next I'm surrounded with more food than I could see in a lifetime!" Molly was staring at the house in shock, her arms still wrapped tightly around Ginny. Snape nodded as he stood by her.

"I'm afraid there isn't much time to explain. All you need to know right now is that an army is being built and we're all in danger. We need to contact the Order, at least everyone who has been through your doorway in the past month, and tell them to meet at Hogwarts as soon as possible." Snape turned to Harry, an arm outstretched. "You come with me. Minerva needs to be notified and I might need your help." He looked back to Molly. "Don't go into the house. It may reactivate the curse."

...

Hogwarts for the most part appeared untouched. Snape had half expected it to be run amok with unsupervised students, but upon arrival, had seemed in order. They made their way in through the large doors, and down the hallway to the gargoyle statue, only when they arrived, the statue was blocked from view. No students were lined up, and it seemed that the half-giant that stood guard at the staircase was the reason why.

"Hagrid!" Harry had stepped forward. Anticipating it, Snape had latched onto Harry's shoulders and held him back as he tried to run for him, drawing his wand and pointing it straight at Hagrid. Harry gave a yell, pointing his own wand at Snape.

"Lower your wand." Harry warned. Snape kept his attention on Hagrid who had stood there, unmoving.

"He went through the doorway, Potter. Hagrid may usually be a gentle giant, but if my theory stands correct, he's quite the opposite now."

"But Ginny...Mrs. Weasley have changed-"

"-I don't believe he has." Snape directed his chin at Hagrid. "Your wand would do better pointed in his direction, at least until he returns to normal."

Harry's wand remained pointed at Snape. Snape turned his eyes first to Harry, followed by his head. Harry was staring at him with conviction.

"If he attacks I can guarantee my magic won't be enough. Quit pointing that stick at me and realize the problem at hand."

Whether Hagrid had sensed Snape's need for a reason, or if he had just noticed their presence, he had stepped forward, the single footstep causing a slight tremor through the ground.

"I've told yer once n'I'll tell yeh again. Minerva ain't seein' nobody righ'now." He released a hearty moan as he lifted his hand from his side, a stone leg that once belonged to the gargoyle looked minuscule compared to his hand that was clasped tightly around it, and swung it at them. Snape and Harry jumped back just in time before it could reach either of them. Harry's glasses had rattled to the tip of his nose, and he pushed them back into place, his wand snapping to Hagrid after the failed attack. Hagrid brought the stone back again over his opposite shoulder, and swung down. They jumped out of the way once more, the stone reaching the ground hard enough to split the solid ground. Snape placed a calm hand on Harry's shoulder, tugging him to walk backwards. Only when they were at the end of the hallway did Hagrid seem to stop and walk back to the stairway. In that brief moment, Snape was able to see the gargoyle had been destroyed, the stairway was unblocked.

"I can get him away from the stairwell long enough for you to sneak by." Harry suggested. Snape shook his head.

"If we knew that Minerva wasn't under the curse, that idea would be brilliant. However, given our circumstances..." Snape waved his wand, conjuring a patronus. He sent it forward, only to watch as Hagrid slammed the stone leg into it as it reached the stairs. The patronus swirled around the stone, turning into a fine mist, before fading away.

"Damnit." Snape mumbled, his teeth baring as if the patronus had been ripped painfully from his soul. Too caught up in analyzing the giant, he failed to see the figure sneaking up behind him, and the spell that flew toward him that disarmed him.

...

Minerva's hand ached. She did not realize this until she blindly reached for the thick book that sat piled high to her left. As her fingers straightened out over the hard cover, a pain shot through them and she pulled her hand back, dropping the quill from her other hand to massage her fingers. Sucking air through her teeth, she began to notice the ugly black ink stains that covered her fingers, collected in the aging wrinkles. She licked the tip of her thumb, rubbing at the ink, but finding that it had dried for far too long to easily come off.

The state of her desk caught her attention next. She was surrounded by a blockade of parchment that was stacked taller than her if she was standing. Her eyes traced the unstable columns, her jaw dropping slightly in astonishment. She removed her glasses, wiping them with her robes, before replacing them to look again. It was not a trick of her eyes, in fact, clearing the smudges that had collected in the time she had been sitting there only showed more untidy stacks that surrounded her.

Slowly rising to her feet, her joints cracked and her muscles screamed in pain for having been kept in the same position for too long, but none of it was noticed. Minerva was too distracted as the words on the papers around her became clear enough to read. Names, dates, blood types, lists of witches and wizards and their respective families had all been written out in her noticeable scrawl. The thing that bothered her the most about it was the fact that she didn't remember writing any of it.

Glancing around at the rest of the room, she sought out the large painting of Albus Dumbledore. A small pitiful squeak working out of her as she saw him, but he did not seem to care. He was frozen, like a Muggle painting, caught in a perpetual stance of halfway standing from the large armchair he was usually sitting in. The table beside him which usually held a teapot and some candy was caught just as it was knocked over, the contents of the table teasingly swaying to one side, but not falling over as it should have. Dumbledore, his eyes glossed solid with fear, made contact with Minerva as if the painting had still been alive, but there was nothing else to suggest it. She pressed a finger against it as if checking for a pulse, it still didn't move, or change.

Voices echoed from the stairwell, the bulk of the words losing their characteristics as they traveled up the spiral shaped staircase, and Minerva could still tell there was a struggle just outside her office. Instinctively, she grabbed for her wand which she usually kept tucked away in her sleeve. It wasn't there. A moment of panic swept over her as she felt and felt again, raking her hands over her robes, making sure she hadn't placed it in a different pocket. Rushing to the desk, she pushed papers this way and that until she recognized the end of her wand, buried under a pile of crumpled papers. She grabbed it, her attention catching on one of the papers.

She had noticed this time on the last line of words that followed the names and descriptions, two words: 'Save' and 'kill.' She crumpled the paper, grabbing it so fast without caring, and shoved it into a robe pocket before taking off to the stairwell. She made her way down, taking precautions to make her steps as soundless as possible, and poked her head around the corner when she had reached the bottom.

Hagrid's back had moved away from her, she recognized the gargoyle's broken leg in his hand that was held out to his side immediately. Just beyond him she saw Severus standing there, his chin raised, his arms out in front of him with his palms facing Neville who had his wand raised at him. Though she didn't see him as Hagrid was blocking him from view, she recognized the voice as Harry ordered Neville to lower his wand.

"I'm not planning on hurting him any." Was Neville's answer. His lips formed into a tight grin, something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "But there is some retaliation I've been wanting to get off my shoulders. Call it karma for bullying me all those years."

"I saw it more as building character." Snape answered. "You were nothing but a weak, self-loathing little Gryffindor that needed a good insult every now and again."

"Snape." Harry barked, sounding offended. Even Minerva was beside herself.

"Here's your chance, Longbottom. Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to take it?"

Neville, cheeks growing red, shifted his stance. He jutted his right foot forward, his right hand which held his wand curled palm up, his teeth ground together, beginning to form a word, but before he could say it, his wand flew from his hand. Harry's spell hit it before any damage could be done.

"Stop it. Just stop it." Harry said, flicking the tip of his wand between the two. Snape was still turned to Neville. Neville had turned toward Harry, his forehead lowered and looked as if he was ready to charge. They had not been aware that Hagrid had been advancing on them, and if Minerva hadn't been watching, the stone would have smashed through all three of them with the veracity he had brought it back with. Minerva pushed her wand forward, petrifying Hagrid in that position. She let her wand linger in the air, before shoving it into her sleeve, stepping off of the last stair and briskly walked toward Severus who had turned to her, watching her carefully, judging her as if she had a deadly motive.

"Would someone please explain to me what is going on?" She asked, collapsing her hands and giving a shifty look to the three men before her.


	26. Chapter 25

Dolores Umbridge sat in a chair, hands folded neatly in her lap, feet delicately crossed at the ankles and all attention fixed on the cell door in front of her. She had a soft smile playing about her face, almost making her look crazy. Azkaban could do that to people, make them crazy, but she embraced it. All of her free time had been spent thinking. Thinking about how to get back at the ones who put her in her position, thinking about the things she's do to those who would work against her when she got out. Time became her friend; the seconds and minutes that passed, dropping in to see her like an old acquaintance, the hours that passed by , repeating itself like a person who was suffering from Alzheimer's, repeating thought after thought, cementing the plan in her head.

Obtaining a wand had been her biggest problem, but it was what had set everything into motion. Waiting for that moment, then having it come had felt like Christmas to her. A young and naive Auror who neglected to follow one of the rules of the prison had been her godsend. She had watched him carefully, entering her small cell delivering her food for days, had spotted the shape of a wand in his back pocket so clearly. He had carried the wand every day in the same spot, and had neglected so much as hiding it on more than one occasion. She could have easily snitched, telling the warden when he came by of the mistake. It would have made her glad to see the boy in trouble, a way to destroy his dreams just as he did hers every time he entered her cell, reminding her that she'd be eating slop every day for the rest of her life, of how she'd grow old and lonely until she died, forgotten by everyone. The wand had saved him, however, and the days he was able to take it had made him her favorite person in the world.

He had turned his back just long enough for her to reach out and grab it. It didn't take much for her to lift it gently, using his own momentum as he placed the tray of food down on the small table to slide it out of his pocket, slip it under her leg, and remain sitting as if nothing had happened. She was sure when he noticed later that he wouldn't say much; it would be his job if anyone found out that he so carelessly had his wand on him while on duty. All she had to do was act like nothing was wrong, which was second nature to her.

Keeping the wand safe was the only other problem she had. Her cell was small, and the places to hide such a precious thing were limited. On the days when the Aurors would do a cell sweep, that is, checking the cells for contraband, she would watch as carefully as she could. Rising up onto her toes at her cell door would give her just enough sight through the small barred window to see the cell across from her being searched. They'd go through everything, turning a cell upside down, leaving it in shambles when finished. It became apparent that they failed to search higher than they could reach, and after scouring her small cell had found a brick that jutted out slightly more than the rest. If she threw the wand just right and gently enough, it would catch on the small ledge, and would ultimately blend in with the dark stone. She had practiced the move late at night, when the guards were few and in between shifts until it would only take a small throw to get it to stay on the first try.

The urge to use the wand was there, always resting just at the edge of her existence, but she knew better. It may have provided an easy escape to fresh air, but getting beyond the sharp and jagged rocks that surrounded Azkaban was futile. It didn't take an idiot to realize she would be dead before then. No. She'd try her patience and wait until she had outside help to escape.

She wouldn't become a fugitive, however. It was beyond herself to put such a title to her name. She would be pardoned, go about this legally. She'd force that Mudblood that now ran the department to let her go, then seek her revenge. Selwyn had been her best choice, and after sending off her first patronus to locate him, she had felt more confident about getting out of there. He was willing to help immediately, offering to rally up those he knew and before long the thoughts she had spent years mulling over were soon becoming reality.

The wait between being able to converse between the small following that gathered on her side was excruciating, and there were times when she was almost caught; once just before being able to pull back her patronus. The action of shoving the wand deeply into the straw she used as a bed was almost seen by the dunderhead that provided it to her was taken as an act of fluffing, and he left just seconds before the patronus had returned; a cloudy-blue Persian cat climbing through the windows would have been hard to miss.

That day, however, had lingered on and hung in the air surrounded her. She knew that the Granger girl had begun to sign the papers. A few of her fellow prisoners had smiled shyly into her cell as they passed, walking in front of the Aurors that had gathered them up for their release. She was certain the Aurors were confused, as every now and again they would voice their concern at the rate the prisoners were being released, but unwilling to question the Ministry, followed their orders religiously. This only made her smile grow.

It wasn't unknown, her feelings of purity. She'd go as far as saying it was the definition of her existence and she felt she would have succeeded too, if not for Voldemort. His way was ruthless, though she wasn't against it, she would have gone about it much differently and now that he had been out of the picture long enough for defenses to be let down, she would try again. She wouldn't kill, unless the matter called for it, no, Dolores Umbridge wasn't that vile, she wasn't a murderer, and while thinking, realized that is where Voldemort had gone wrong. She'd simply segregate the Pure from the Garbage, allow the Mudbloods to live, but with restriction. To her, they were just the stepping stones to build a worthwhile Wizarding colony, the base needed to build a thriving world. They'd be imperative to the rise of purity, and a reminder to the enabled of everyone's place.

The sound of locks sliding out of place swept the smile larger. She had imagined this moment, lingered on the excitement that grew within her as an Auror approached her, took her by the arm, and guided her out of the cell.


	27. Chapter 26

"Flipendo!" Harry's spell was just enough to send Neville flying back into a wall, but not quick enough to stop the spell he cast at Snape. The spell hit an unsuspecting Snape who had been staring wide-eyed at Minerva who had appeared from her doorway. The spell hit him hard, knocking the breath from him and he gasped for oxygen. Falling to his knees, he hunched over, his hands pressed against the floor and he lowered his head in determination to get some oxygen into his lungs. The room was beginning to grow dark around him, but he managed to see out of the corner of his eye, Hagrid, who had managed to shake free of the bind Minerva had put on him, swung his stone at the woman. A painful oomph sounded and he knew she had been hit, he raised his head just enough to make out the fuzzy shape of Harry standing there, mouth open, momentarily stunned by the action of his gentle friend. The vision faded more, his throat yelled for a breath that was not coming easily. He extended his hand, concentrating on his wand, but collapsed as it reached him.

Harry, attention fully on Hagrid who had turned, raised his wand in defense. His mouth was dry and licking his lips did nothing to abate the feeling of dread that took him over. Hagrid raised the stone again, swinging it down at him.

"Repello." He said, and watched as the stone hit an invisible barrier inches in front of him, rebounding with the force, and smacking back into Hagrid's head. The hit did nothing, merely caused a grunt before the stone was swinging back at him. Harry cast again, and the stone smacked into the invisible barrier.

He looked to Neville, who was fighting to get to his feet. They both spotted his wand that had been knocked from him in the collision and both went for it, Harry narrowly missing Hagrid's stone that crashed into the floor inches from his feet as he dived. Neville managed to grasp the bottom half of the wand, Harry held tightly to the tip, they tugged at each other's restraint, Neville trying to knock Harry's hand away, Harry using both hands to grab.

Crack.

Harry screamed in slight pain as Hagrid had managed to swipe his leg. The pain caused him to let go, Neville regained possession of his wand, immediately using it. Harry rolled, narrowly escaping a red stream that protruded from Neville's wand, then rolled back, dodging another swing from Hagrid.

"Confringo!" Harry lined his wand with the stone Hagrid was lifting, and watched as the stone cracked, then exploded, sending shards of rock throughout the hallway. Hagrid reached down, his eyes burning into Harry, and grabbed his leg. Harry hissed in pain as his injury became known, and found himself being picked up, swinging backwards through the air, then forwards at twice the speed. He felt Hagrid's fingers release him, felt the air around him as he sailed through it, and braced for a hard impact.

The impact never came. Opening his eyes he had squeezed shut, he saw the floor beneath him, still, almost frozen in time just inches below his nose. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and gave a small laugh. Slowly, he lowered to the ground, and when he had enough grip to do so, turned around.

"Alright there, Harry?" Seamus Finnegan was extending a hand, Harry took the help gratefully and rose to his feet, wincing as his leg screamed. Raising his pant leg, he saw a thick bruise beginning to form, his skin was scraped and bloody, but the injury was minor. He looked up and over to Hagrid. Molly, Ginny and Shacklebolt had encased him in a clear, shimmering shroud. Hagrid was trying hard to knock it down, his fists hitting upon the clear wall around him, but doing nothing more that appearing like a mime act. Dean Thomas had Neville in an arm lock, and watched as Neville went from frantically struggling to get free, to standing there obviously confused with everything. Dean kept his hold, however, unfathomed by Neville's sudden loss of resistance. Minerva was kneeling next to Snape, who was sitting against a wall, his face flushing with color, sweating and gulping in large breaths as if he had never tasted air before.

"What's going on?" Harry asked astounded, to no one in particular. He made one more turn around, taking in everyone again before kneeling next to Snape.

"We need to get to Paris." Snape said.

...

"I'm sorry Hermione. I'm sorry for everything." Ron said. He was placed in a chair behind Hermione, tied down. She had been tied down too after all the papers had been signed, her wrists and legs sealed to the arm rests and legs of the chair.

"What will happen now?" She asked over her shoulder.

"As far as I know, Umbridge will arrive and they'll move onto the next step in the plan."

"Killing us, I suppose."

"No, they want us alive. That's been drilled into me. She wants to take over the ministry."

There wasn't a paper signed that freed Ron from his alter state that Hermione remembered; his face never appeared in the mirror, but after the last pardon had been signed, they had left them in the room as they were, and she could tell Ron had been sincere in his shame.

"I'm not sure what will happen with the others, but I'm sure she'll have more use for us. You especially given your high standing in the Ministry." Ron added.

Hermione let her head fall onto the chair back. She stared at the ceiling. Though the Ministry had been carefully combed and ridded of anyone with a hatred and disregard toward purity, there were a few that were kept on or hired. It was inevitable to simply wipe away or deny a job to those who had even a tiny problem with it when their resume's were outstanding, and she wondered just how much of a hand they'd have in this, if they knew of this plan all along.

"I'm really sorry, I really am." Ron said again.

"Oh just stop for a while." She ordered, growling slightly angered. "We're in a position that's not in our favor right now. How about worrying about how we're going to get out of this instead of apologizing?"

"...sorry."

"Ronald!"

They sat in silence, though he had been returned, she was reminded of how daft he could be at times and it struck a dislike for him she had never felt before, an annoyance that was worse when she had to write his astronomy reports or fix his history papers. She had closed her eyes, wishing she had the power of telepathy so maybe she could reach out to someone and speak to them for help. Maybe if she'd taken Divination more seriously she would have practiced the art more studiously. There were times when she'd pick up Parvati's textbooks and read them when she was bored, but did nothing more than simply glance at the words, never retaining the information. Silliness, the act of crystal ball gazing, tea leaf reading, astral projection...

"I wish they hadn't of taken my wand." Ron said. Hermione shushed him. Ron fought to look over his shoulder.

"What did you learn about astral projection in Divination?" She asked. Ron shrugged.

"We didn't spend much time on that section. Fell asleep during most of it."

"Oh, Ronald!" Hermione scoffed.

"What? All those pillows, the comforting scents, could you blame me?"

She would have buried her face in her hands if they weren't tied down.

"Do you remember how to do it?"

"Oh sure, you just concentrate on your breathing until you're relaxed, and then you concentrate on the place you want to go."

"Do you think you could do it?"

"You want me to do it?"

"Yes, I want you to do it." She snapped. "At least, could you try?"

"Can't you do it?" Ron asked, Hermione sighed. He tried turning around again. "I would, but I usually fall asleep before I can even think of a place to go."

"Fine." Hermione wiggled a bit under her restraints to get comfortable. She took in a few large breaths, closed her eyes, and concentrated.


	28. Chapter 27

"Harry spoke of a house in Paris, Weasley visits it daily, the Snatchers are gathered there. We need to find this house. I'm quite positive we'll find Miss Granger there as well, Umbridge too if she's managed her exit from Azkaban."

Snape made a face as he shot down a vial of potion Madame Pomfrey had given him. Minerva, her hand rubbing across her stomach gingerly though the pain of being swatted by Hagrid had far left, stepped closer to Snape. She had taken on a permanent worried look since they had arrived at the infirmary and had listened to Snape spill all that had happened. Hagrid and Neville had 'snapped to' on their way to the infirmary, quite confused in all that was happening and did nothing more than follow the small army of people that had appeared, silently.

"The only problem is with Potter's memory gone, finding this place will prove to be difficult." He looked over to the bed Harry was sitting on. Ginny sat beside him, her hand rubbing lightly on his hurt leg above the lacerations he had been given. Snape had a moment of panic as Harry had seemed to zone out on his way to the infirmary, just as the others had seemed to do, freeing them from whatever spell they were under. Deciding not to press the matter, he decided that Harry was either too confused to say anything and had gathered their situation from listening, or remembered just enough to not alert anyone to his change. Snape watched Madame Pomfrey wave her wand over Harry's cuts, the skin healing over, and a look of relief passed over him. Minerva turned to Harry.

"You don't remember anything of the location?" She asked. Harry shook his head.

"No..." He seemed to scour his thoughts. "It's blank." He said, ending decidedly on a stubborn note. Knowing as much, Snape showed no emotion, raising a hand to Minerva's displacement of his answer and took the initiative to voice a plan.

"Knowledge or not, we'll have to go and be prepared for battle as soon as we arrive...Rubeus, I'm afraid your presence may be unwelcome among any Muggles we encounter. It's best you remain behind, possibly visit the Ministry to alert them if they haven't been already and be our point of contact should we have any problems. Kingsley, would you mind setting up a portkey? We can start at the hotel, follow the last direction I'm aware of Weasley went, go from there."

...

Darkness had helped to mask their arrival. The small group had appeared unnoticed, falling in step behind Snape as he led the way down the path he had seen Ron walking upon his first sighting. No one spoke a word, except for Minerva as soon as they had reached a bank of trees that sheltered them from view. She had flourished her wand, a ball of soft, blue light emerged from the tip and bounded down a trail in front of them. To an untrained eye, the light would have appeared as nothing more than a firefly that stopped to hover around every other tree, but to the Wizards that followed, knew that it would lead them near the location they needed to find. It worked much like a patronus, only without shape and did not exert as much energy usually needed, and unlike the unreliable fickleness that the wispy animals carried hurrying to their destination, the light seemed to understand its purpose and would pause if it felt too far ahead, waiting for its followers to catch up before gently bouncing ahead.

The trees grew thick, darkening the already pitch trail, and it wasn't long before the first curse was cast. They heard it before they saw it, and Molly held an arm out, stopping Ginny from walking straight into it. The fiery stream crossed inches in front of them, sizzling as it hit a low branch. The branch wreathed, curled in on itself as if in pain, then exploded in a fine dust. She pulled her wand, cast a hex in the direction the curse came from, and watched it explode along a fallen log, the small and instant flash of light that had been made by the explosion just enough to see a darkened shadow dodge aside. Ginny lifted her wand and together, Molly and she tackled either side of the shadowy figure. It yelped, and crunching leaves followed soon after. He had fallen, legs bound from moving. Another burst of light broke apart Harry and Kingsley, each of them pressing their backs together, firing off spell after spell. Minerva, stepping in circles, squinting through the darkness as she, too, cast her own charms at any place that proved a worthy hiding spot.

The darkness came alive, pulsing of lights, like heartbeats giving away the Death Eaters that had surrounded them, the spells forming veins that shot through vacant space with the intention to take life, the expertise silence in which all fought adding to the chills that grew with each defensive movement until it all blurred together. As adrenaline took over, the majestic and methodical movements turned into one ravished dance, forced into each of them with one goal: staying alive. For Snape, it was almost second nature. Half his life had been spent shooting at the good side, purposely missing an easy mark he could have made. This time was different, however, aiming to mar those they were fighting against. He had to admit, finally protecting the right side without having to hide it instilled a newfound pride in him. Knowing the tricks of the trade only assisted in helping him zero in and take out his target.

Dressed in black, it helped him blend in with his surroundings. No one seemed to noticed when he stepped away, shying from the group. He had seen a dark mass hiding behind a tree, skillfully stepped silently up to it, raised his wand, and watched in satisfaction as the mass slumped lifelessly to the ground. He trained his eyes, searching for another spell source, and when he found it, proceeded in the same way. He managed another three hits before he had been shot at, jumping away but not before the spell fried the ends of his hair. Instinctively he dropped to the ground, scuttled to the safety of a tree and waited, only moving when Harry had yelled for help just a few yards away to his left. He tripped over his feet, standing as he saw Harry hands on with an unfamiliar face.

The man charging at Harry who had lost his wand, Harry grabbing the man by the shoulders of his shirt, using his own leverage, flinging him around and to the ground. Snape lunged, grabbing the mans legs as Harry battled his flailing arms. Together, they managed to turn him over onto his stomach, Harry , a knee between his shoulder blades, pressed his head into the ground with one hand, bending an arm behind his back and applied pressure to his thumb, pushing it toward his palm until a favorable cry escaped from the man. Snape had crossed the mans kicking legs, twisting them until they stilled, then applied a spell that held him in that position, allowing the both of them to dismount, breathing heavily from the struggle. Minerva stood a few feet away, watching, still worried as they appeared. Snape looked around, seeing everyone attending to their own downed body.

"Is that the lot?" Harry spoke, pocketing his wand obtained somewhere between. Minerva gave a curt nod.

"I believe so."

"Is everyone alright?" Snape asked, illuminating the tip of his wand, scanning it over the ground.

"Molly suffered a stun. Finnegan has a broken arm, but for the most part we're all still here."

"I trust you can get everyone back to safety?" Snape said, looking down the path they were following. Minerva grabbed a hold of his arm, anticipating his leave.

"You're not going there alone." She said sounding more like giving an order than questioning his motives. Snape glared at her hand before raising his chin.

"It's going to take most of you to transfer these bodies back to Azkaban. Time won't wait, Minerva."

She pointedly studied him, hesitantly dropping his arm. Snape bowed slightly before hurrying off.

...

Hem-hem

Hermione winced, the fake cough churning her stomach the second she heard it. Though she was relieved for an excuse to open her eyes which had begun to twitch from being forced closed for so long, achieving no kind of out of body experience no matter her effort, hearing that bogus cough was not how she wanted to be woken.

"Comfortable?" Umbridge asked as she stepped into the room. Hermione's head remained inclined on the back of the chair, and she feigned a smile.

"Very." She answered. Umbridge simpered, eyes twinkling, her hands folded delicately in front of her.

"That's good." She said sweetly. "I'm glad you feel safe enough here to get comfortable. Tell me, Melaby has offered you a gratifying stay?"

"Besides the pushing and shoving...and the occasional obtrusive grope, I'd say he has been a marvelous host." Hermione drowned the latter part of her answer in sarcasm, tightly sneering, letting her eyes narrow as she watched Umbridge walk to the stack of papers she had signed, her fingers lightly gliding over them.

"Then I suppose you won't have any objections to remaining here?" Umbridge flashed her teeth in an attempt to smile, letting out a small pip. Ron let out a moan.

"Mr. Weasley," she regarded Ron as if she hadn't noticed him in the room. "Surely you realize your contribution to my success this far has not been forgotten." She walked over to him, stopping a foot from his side and awkwardly patted his head. "I assure you, with your further undivided cooperation, you'll find yourself in high rankings."

"I'd rather get hit by a rogue bludger than do anything for you." He spat. Umbridge giggled.

"I'm afraid that's not an option." She turned to the door she had entered from. "Dias, be a dear and fetch Twinkle."

...

A/N: Thank you to everyone for being patient! I've a few more busy weeks ahead of me, so updating is going to be slow. Just hang in there with me and enjoy the waiting process as this story is nearly finished. I'll try to drag the story out as much as possible, but to keep it on track I'm not sure how much I can milk from it. Camp Nano is starting again in a couple of weeks and I've already started planning the next story, so no worries about not having anything exciting after this! Until then, Xxxxx!


	29. Chapter 28

It was evident that Twinkle was Umbridge's house elf; he had the same wrinkly look all house elves had, only he carried an air of snootiness, of importance and Hermione had to say he was probably the first one of his kind she didn't feel sorry for. Being childless, it was easy to see that Umbridge had favored her small servant in much the fashion a mother would to her own baby. He neither flinched around her, nor acted in any way afraid, and the way he stood near the desk, pouring himself a cup of tea, added a sense of sophistication to him that looked rather odd and out of place, entitlement if it could be called that. He adored the woman, this was evident, as when she entered the room his full attention had been spent on her, from complementing the change of clothes she had switched into and forcing her into a chair shoving a cup of tea into her hands before patting her arm in a doting and warm welcome, Umbridge settling back into it, nestling down like a content feline who had found a comfortable position on her favorite perch.

It wasn't long before the front door opened, someone entered wheezing and gasping for air. The footsteps scraped across the ground, then stopped on the other side of the door to the room they were all in. It was pressed open with force and Selwyn emerged collapsing against it, doubled over, his feet threatening to give away under him. Umbridge looked over to him, smiling as if she didn't observe his bloody hands that were pressed tight to his chest, or the pained expression that covered his face.

"Back so soon?" She asked, a trill to her voice that could place the question somewhere between jesting and disappointment. Selwyn grimaced, his knees wobbling.

"Most were captured. We lost five." The words came fast and timed between breaths. Hermione realized he sounded like a dying man and she refused to let that satisfaction show.

"Hm." Umbridge chirped. Selwyn seemed unsure of himself, the lack of compassion doing little to comfort him.

"I lost track of Severus. Almost blasted that damn crooked nose right off his face, but he dodged. There's a good chance he'll be headed this way." His eyes flickered over Hermione who slightly paled at his mention. "If we play our cards right, we have leverage enough to change his mind."

A stream of white light struck Selwyn dead in his chest. Selwyn's face knotted in temporary unsettled defeat before his knees finally gave way. They hit the ground with a dull thud. His shirt was magically shredded, cuts forced their way along the parts of him that weren't already maimed and it was all followed by a heavy smack after his torso lost the battle with gravity, falling forward, face down, blood pooling quickly around his corpse. Hermione squealed at the sudden attack having not expected it, Ron let out a whine of his own, eyes wide as a hand holding a wand slowly snaked its way through the door, a black mass following.

Snape took a long stride, slinking into the room and turned sharply, seeing Umbridge rise to her feet. He had his wand trained on her, but she neither attempted dodging it or moving from its aim. She gave a nod, directed to Twinkle who snapped from his spot beside her to where Ron and Hermione had been sat. With a snap of his fingers, Ron had been released, the ginger remained there perplexed and before Hermione could order him to make a move, Twinkle had swirled a finger in the air. Ron changed in that instant, as if the elf had swiveled his soul around its long, pointy finger, the baffled boy went from dumbfounded to fierce. His eyes flashed, squaring his shoulders, fists forming at his sides.

"Didn't I tell you before to mind your own business?" He hissed. Snape kept his wand at Umbridge though he looked Ron over in contempt.

"I was brought into it." Snape replied, switching his aim as Ron progressed on him. He hit him with a spell that blasted him backward, turned and sought out Umbridge who had moved from her chair to the doorway, blocking him in the room.

Twinkle approached Hermione. She struggled, kicking as soon as he had snapped the ropes from her ankles. She managed to kick his arm. He shook it, grinning maliciously as he jumped, arms outstretched, his eyes inches away from Hermione's and began twirling his finger. She stood, Twinkle sliding from her lap, but not before he managed to grab a hold of the front of her shirt, dangling as Hermione remained bent over, still being attached to the chair. Ron appeared next to Twinkle and suddenly, the ropes disappeared from her wrists, the chair sliding off her back to the floor with a clatter. She straightened up, the tip of Ron's wand pointed directly at her throat. He reached forward, grabbing her wrist as it flew up to smack the wand away, and twirled her around so she was standing against him, her back to his front, a strong arm wrapped around her chest.

"Front row seats to watch your lovers death, eh?" He whispered in her ear. His breath was warm on her neck, the dampness of his words causing her hair to stick to her skin. The words seemed to empower her, bringing an anger she had never felt before through her veins, heating her very existence. She grabbed at his arm, pulling down as hard as she could, but Ron leaned back, lifting her feet off the ground. She used this little change in weight to her advantage, letting her weight fill her legs as he let her feet touch the ground again, pulled him forward, then rammed her head back. Her head connected with Ron's nose, the unexpected collision caused him to drop his arms. Hermione twisted around, grabbing his hand and plucked the wand straight from his fingers. Ron didn't seem to notice, he gripped at his nose, wailing about it being broken. She didn't doubt it, as much as her head ached, she'd be surprised if it wasn't, and raised the wand to him. It shook, wavering as she battled internally with her choice. It would have given her great pleasure to take revenge, make him hurt as much as he had hurt her, but the hex wouldn't form. As hard as she tried, something held her back from expelling all the pent up emotions she held.

He had been jinxed, Twinkle had obviously performed some kind of Imperius curse, and Hermione knew better than to take it at face value. House Elf magic was as dark as the masters themselves if not more vile and for Twinkle to have turned Ron so sour with a single flip of his finger, she found it hard to put all the blame on Ron. She turned her wand to the elf standing at their side who only let out a sticky, lingering laugh, taunting her with his arms to his side, fingers groping at the air around his head. He stepped left, dodged right, then left again, apparating as Hermione let her first curse flow. His unmistakable pop appeared behind her.

"Hey girlie!" His voice was croaky, like a rotten egg. She flipped around, aimed, then recoiled as Twinkle disappeared again leaving her aiming at Severus who was standing in a dueling position against Umbridge.

Pop

Twinkle was beside her, poking her in her ribs. She let out a shriek, smacking her hand at a vacant space.

Pop

Now on the other side of her, tapping her arm to gain her attention. He was playing with her, teasing her as if to tell her he was much more limber and stronger at Magic than she ever could be. Then suddenly, he vanished, leaving Hermione feeling empty, almost lost as she searched the room waiting for his next appearance.

"Join me, Severus." Umbridge said. "I promise you'll be treated better than Riddle ever could have treated you. Your intelligence will not be wasted."

"My intelligence is wasted every second I look at you." Snape sneered.

"Then why don't you fight? Surely if your dexterity and aptitude can overcome this situation, you'd have finished it by now."

"Unlike some views on my need for retaliation against your sort, I'm merely waiting for you to make the first move."

"My dear Severus. When will you learn to seize opportunity when it's presented to you?" Umbridge lunged, green sparks flew from the tip of her wand. Snape raised his, blocking her curse with a blue flash of light and took his defensive stance again.

"Let's be clear. I'm not your dear anything." He lunged this time, a purple streak erupted toward Umbridge who deflected it barely wincing. "Secondly,". He purred, bringing his back foot forward, "you're forgetting the number one rule in dueling."

"Oh?" She let out a snort. "And what's that?"

Severus smirked, his lips pulling back knowingly, watching as Umbridge was hit from behind, a spell she didn't see coming. Her skin rippled, turning icy-blue in color, her lips, parted in an 'O' shape, melted into a deep purple. Frozen, she could have been easily mistaken for a statue, something that had been carefully carved out of a single block of ashy blue stone.

"Awareness." Snape said, lifting his chin as Minerva stepped over the threshold behind the rigid woman. He had only time to nod a thank you before Hermione had yelled a warning. He turned in time to see Twinkle launch his tiny elvish body at him, a ball of light beginning to form between his hands, obviously furious at Umbridge's sudden change. He braced for impact, and when he expected it to come, Twinkle shimmered, his body growing fuzzy, out of focus, before exploding. He had heard the Killing Curse being spoken in Hermione's voice, and took only a sharp breath before he realized what she had done. As Twinkle's dust had cleared, he could make out Hermione standing there, arm trembling, tears already falling from her eyes, and she collapsed in a heap.

Ron, knocking over a vase had announced his sudden leap, seeing Hermione's vulnerable state and was rushing toward her, angrily growling. Snape had still been in shock at hearing those two words come from Hermione that it took Minerva to freeze him, just as she had done to Umbridge, and they watched as Ron's balance became jeopardized, toppling over onto Hermione who let out a scream as he landed on her. She pushed him off and away, scuttling backwards on all fours to hurry away from him. Snape recalled how she had retreated so quickly in his kitchen and promptly stepped over the fallen bodies of Selwyn and Ronald, kneeling down as he reached her. She immediately latched onto him, her arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders, she cried into his neck. He sent a worried glance to Minerva who only stood there looking back at the both of them exhausted.


	30. Chapter 29

'Umbridge Escaped, Ministry, Order Defeat Attack'

The headline scrolled over the page of The Daily Prophet. Severus read the article, fingers strangling the parchment between them as the article turned the potentially dangerous situation into something that shouldn't be worried over. The article had been Minerva's doing, insisting the public should be aware of the problem, especially those she had listed while under the spell to kill. Kingsley on the other hand, worried about pandemonium in the Wizarding World, insisted on being as discreet as possible, only telling the bare minimum. Severus could understand his side, knowing very well there were extremists that would go to the full extent to turn this into a painful situation, but at the same time had to side with Minerva. There were people that had a threat against them, and through some Veritaserum and trial had found that her intentions were not to kill, had concluded that had been an afterthought most likely added by Selwyn. Umbridge could only be forced to speak of the things she knew, not of any other plans that Selwyn may have been plotting on the side. This left many witches and wizards with death threats and knowing very well that not all Death Eaters had been accounted for, needed to press on those who's lives had been compromised to know. Kingsley had settled on only letting those selected know with a personalized message straight from the Ministry, not seeing a need to worry those who were destined to continue living.

When the article mentioned Ron, his lip twitched, stating he had suffered a mental collapse was quite offsetting. His mental stress was not his doing, but of dark magic. Worse than dark magic even. This was house elf magic, from a house elf that served and worshipped Umbridge, the effects were nasty and lasting. Hermione was unaware that in killing Twinkle before he had removed his curse, had left Ron under the powerful imperious, sanity potions bringing only a breath of normality to the boy, giving an hour or two of his own life back to him before the curse would devour him whole again with no sign of fading on its own. The article failed to mention this, though it did list his residency as St. Mungo's.

Hermione had been nearly ruined when this was explained to her, and the guilt she had felt and often showed on the daily since had torn at Severus. He still didn't care for the Weasley, preferring Hermione to just forget him altogether so they could continue a future together, but knew very well she couldn't. She still loved him, a fact Severus had to allow, and would subject him to stories of his good traits when he least wanted to hear it, and on a weekly basis had sat in a bare waiting room as she visited him in St. Mungo's. She would wait for the potion to take effect, enter the room, then leave just before the effects of the potion would run out.

Severus rolled his eyes from the article to the clock on the wall, abruptly folding the paper and tossed it onto the table in front of him. He rose to his feet, leaving the waiting room with intent.

...

Hermione tore a tissue between her fingers, the only thing she could do to keep herself in control. She had watched Ron lie on his bed, emotionless and vacant. His back was turned to her, and the last word spoken between them was over an hour before. Hermione wanted so much to reach over and rub his back, even hold his hand, but a protective barrier had been placed between them; a safe guard put up after he had managed to break free from his restraints and bite an attendants finger almost off. Even if she tried, her hand would press against an unseen surface and wouldn't budge no matter how hard she pushed. He had shown this attitude for a few weeks now, ever since Hermione had told him about Severus and her decision to stay with him. This only hurt her heart more, causing her to tear at the tissue faster. Maybe she should have just kept it secret from him, and had she of known this silent treatment would be given, she would have, but she felt he still deserved to know.

Upon entering the room, she first thought he had adjusted to the thought, greeting her warmly as if everything had been in the past, now forgotten. It remained that way as she spoke of her work, then listened to him gripe about his last roommate and how the food was bland. It wasn't until she delicately asked him to agree to a separation did he turn his back, ending the pleasantries. She had spent ten minutes begging him to speak with her, and explaining why she wanted it, reminding him that she still loved him, but needed this. She had since given up, tore her tissue, and stewed in self guilt in bringing up such a matter.

"Five minutes."

Severus had poked his head around the door giving the warning that her visitation was coming to a close. Normally, she'd milk those five minutes, remaining with Ron for as long as she could, but she couldn't. Not right then. Before he had the chance to pull his head back around the door, Hermione stood, her head bowed down as she tried to hide her face, and squeezed past Severus. He watched as she stormed down the hallway, past rooms of other patients and through some double doors. He had half a mind to go into Ron's room and give him a lecture, but thought otherwise and briskly took off after Hermione. He found her standing outside, her face lifted toward the sun that was warm, her eyes closed. She was breathing heavily.

"You don't have to keep doing this to yourself." He reminded her. She breathed a few more times then opened her eyes, letting them fall upon Severus. She looked composed, though he still frowned at her and Hermione turned, shoving her arms through his and around his back. He tensed at the hug, looked around uncomfortably, but did nothing to stop it. He didn't enjoy these public acts of affection and had learned that trying to stop them was no use. It was better to let her go about it and ignore the admiring glances of anyone around.

"All he does is put you in a right mood when you leave." He spoke softly, trying his hardest to not let annoyance show through. She squeezed him tighter.

"He's still my friend." She spoke into his chest. "I just can't abandon him."

"I doubt he'd notice."

Hermione pulled her head back, glancing at him questioningly.

"They only use that potion on him for your visits. Mr. Hyde in there probably doesn't realize you've visited and, if I have to remind you, holds nothing but contempt for you. If I had a say in this, you woul-."

She melted into a sweet smile.

"You're cute when you're jealous, you know." The interruption stopped Severus.

"Cute?" He asked, his eyes narrowing. She raised up to her tiptoes and pecked a kiss on his lips, one he returned rigidly, but only just.

"Cute." She said, pulling away and walking to the point of apparation.

"I'm neither cute, nor jealous Miss Granger and you'd be wise to never use either in my presence again." He was hiding a smirk, holding his arm out for her to take. She bit her lip, studying him.

"Dishy and odious then." She said, placing her hand on his arm. Her choice of words were not that much better, but he accepted them as he rearranged her hand so their arms were linked, and apparated her home to the safety of his arms.

The end.


End file.
